The Faded River

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 10:05:18 -

The Faded River

The fire started at the root of the oak. It did not roar. It whispered. A dry, rustling sound like old paper tearing in a quiet room. I stood in the courtyard. The sky was the color of a bruise. Grey and swollen. I watched the flames eat the bark. Black smoke coiled upward. It touched the stars. Or perhaps it tried to. The air smelled of resin and ash. And something else. Something sweet....

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