The Distant Cartograph

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 18:13:53 -

You stand in the center of a room that has no walls, only a horizon that curves like the rim of a cup. The air is thick, smelling of ozone and crushed thyme, a scent that belongs to no season you can name. You are a soldier, though you wear no uniform, only a coat of grey wool that has begun to fray at the cuffs. You hold it in your hands, this coat, this skin you have worn for forty years of...

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews