The Distant Affair

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 13:56:48 -

The moss on the wall breathed. It was a slow, wet exhalation. I watched it. My name is Elias. I am the warden of the old abbey. Or so they said. I was not a warden. I was a prisoner. The cell was the garden. The bars were the stone arches. The air tasted of rot and rain. I held a sprout in my hand. It was pale. It had no roots. It was just a green thread of life. I kept it in my palm. I...

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews