The Wistful Witness

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-21 13:53:54 -

The bread was stale. It sat on the rough stone table. A block of grey rye. Hard as wood. I touched it. Cold. Dry. I was alone. The cave mouth was dark. Snow fell outside. Fine. White. Silent. My name is Thomas. I am a soldier. Or I was. The tunic is heavy. It smells of wet wool and rust. I have been walking for three days. My boots are soaked. My hands shake. The bread remains. I do not eat...

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