The Distant Machine

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-21 15:43:01 -

You are cold. The wind bites through the wool. You pull the collar higher. It scrapes against your throat. The fabric is thin. It was not always thin. It was heavy once. It was black. It is grey now. You feel the wear in the weave. It fits you. It is you. You walk the corridor. The stone is cold under your boots. The torches hiss. They spit sparks into the dark. The air smells of damp moss and...

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