The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 23:32:57 -

The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a gray veil that dampened the breath of the men standing in the square of Oakhaven. It was a small town, built of stone and stubbornness, where the bells of the clock tower marked the hours with a heavy, rhythmic thud that seemed to settle into the bones of anyone who stood beneath them. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood apart from the others, his...

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews