The Faded Root

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 19:17:52 -

The Faded Root

You stand before the mirror. The glass is cold. It has been cold for three hundred years. You press your palm against it. The glass does not break. It has never broken. You are old. Your hands are maps of wrinkles. The veins beneath the skin look like rivers in a dying land. You look for your face. You see only the mirror. The mirror is waiting. It has always been waiting. The house is quiet....

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