The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 16:51:35 -

The rain did not fall. It hung. A thick, grey curtain of mist clung to the windowpane. It was a solid thing. Cold. Heavy. Silas pressed his forehead against the glass. The cold bit into his skin. He did not pull away. He wanted the chill to seep in. He wanted it to freeze the rot inside him. He looked at the room. The walls were bare. White. Blinding. The only color was the red of the rose in...

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