The Distant Garden

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 22:44:44 -

The soil was wet. It was not the damp of rain, which dries by noon, but the thick, sucking moisture of a wound that refuses to close. I stood before the black earth of the Blackwood estate, my constable’s tunic stiff with the morning chill, my hands trembling at my sides. I am Silas. I am forty-two. I have served Lord Vane for twenty years, keeping the peace in a house that has forgotten what...

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