The Distant Garden

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 22:57:08 -

The banquet hall smelled of tallow and stale beer. The air was thick, a physical weight pressing against the lungs. Silas Thorne sat at the long oak table. His hands rested on the wood. They were large hands. Broad palms. Knuckles swollen. Like river stones smoothed by decades of friction. He watched the steam rise from his bowl. It curled and vanished. A ghost of warmth in the cold room....

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