The Wistful Witness

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 02:41:48 -

The hall is cold. It smells of wet wool and old stone. You stand in the center of it. The floor is polished marble, black and white, like a board for a game you have forgotten how to play. Around you, the air is thick with silence. It is not a peaceful silence. It is the silence of held breath. Of waiting. You are here because you were called. That is all. You do not know why. You only know...

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