The Wistful Throne

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 11:44:34 -

The river was already high. It had been rising for three days, swallowing the mudflats, the reeds, the old tires, and finally the bridge. It did not roar. It simply existed, a vast, brown indifference that erased the line between land and water. Silas stood on the dock. His boots were soaked through. He held a lantern. The flame flickered, weak against the wet air. He was a man of wood. A...

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