The Wistful Witness

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 22:37:38 -

The dream is not a dream but a ledger, balanced in the red ink of your own blood. You stand in the middle of a field that has been plowed into furrows so deep they resemble the veins of a corpse, and the air tastes of iron and wet wool. You are a mason, or you were, before the war took the shape of your hands and replaced it with the shape of your grief. You are walking toward a building that...

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