The Distant Summer

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 22:00:07 -

The roof collapsed first. Dust. Silt. The smell of wet iron. Garrick stood in the dark. He breathed. The air tasted of copper and old stone. He was a soldier. He had no sword. He had only his hands and his breath. The keep was falling. For three hundred years, the walls had held. Now they crumbled. The sky was gone. There was only the void. And the sound of breaking. A dry, sickening crack....

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