The Wistful Silence

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 01:05:53 -

The rain fell in sheets. Thick. Cold. It hammered the roof of the manor like a thousand small fists. Elias stood by the window. He held his coat. It was heavy. Wet. The wool soaked through to his skin. He did not care. He watched the gate. No one came. The house was old. Stone. Grey. It smelled of damp earth and old paper. The air was still. Too still. The silence had weight. It pressed against...

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