The Wistful Mountain

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 01:19:59 -

The candle guttered. It was the only light in the tower. The stone was cold. It bit into Aldous’s back. He sat in silence. The wind screamed outside. It sounded like a beast dying. Aldous was an old man. His hands were gnarled. They rested on the table. The table was wood. It was dark. It was worn. He looked at his hands. They were not his own. They belonged to the tower. They belonged to the...

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