The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 16:33:33 -

The frost on the windowpane was thick as old skin. It had formed overnight, sealing the cottage against the biting wind of the Yorkshire moors. I stood before it, my hand pressed flat against the cold glass. My breath fogged the surface, then vanished. The house was silent. Too silent. The hearth fire had died to embers, leaving only a dull, red glow that pulsed like a fading heartbeat. I was...

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