The Wistful Campus

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 10:14:22 -

The fire was out. Not gone. Just out. The embers glowed like dying eyes in the hearth. I sat on the cold stone floor. My hands shook. I looked at them. They were rough. They were mine. I had worked them hard. I had bled from them. I had carved them into the wood of the old world. "Did you see it?" I did not look up. I knew who spoke. It was Silas. He stood by the door. His cloak was wet. Rain...

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