The Wistful Witness

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 00:43:58 -

The dream was of a door. It stood alone in a field of white snow, the wood black and rotting. I opened it. Behind it was not a room, but a sky. Just the sky. I woke with the taste of iron in my mouth. The candles in my cell had burned to nubs. The wick had died hours ago. I lay in the darkness, listening to the wind rattle the iron bars. I am a soldier. I have served the King for twenty years....

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