The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 11:17:06 -

The road to the capital was a ribbon of grey mud that stretched endlessly through the autumn mist, swallowing the sound of my hooves until the world felt small and quiet. I rode a thin mare, her ribs showing like the keys of a broken harpsichord, and I carried with me a satchel that weighed more than the leather and canvas had any right to. Inside was my hand. Not a severed limb, mind you, but...

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