The Distant Garden

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 19:36:38 -

The air tasted of rust. And wet wool. I was wet. My boots slipped on the slick stone floor. The clock tower loomed above. It was a beast of iron and glass. I ran. My lungs burned. The cold bit my cheeks. I knew it was over. But I ran. My sister, Elise, stood by the gears. She held the lever. Her face was pale. Her eyes were wide. Not with fear. With joy. "Stop, Elise!" I screamed. My voice...

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