The Wistful Silence

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 21:10:14 -

The banquet hall was not made of wood or stone, but of suspended dust motes that hummed in a low, dissonant chord. The air tasted of copper and old rain. We stood in the center of this grey, shifting void, surrounded by a crowd of men and women in suits that had lost their color, their faces smooth and blank as unglazed clay. "Order," the steward said. His voice did not travel through the air....

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