The Wistful Silence

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 02:28:35 -

The house stood in the valley like a bruise that would not heal. I remember the stone. It was cold. It was wet. It was alive with a dampness that seeped into the bones. I placed my hand on the wall. The mortar crumbled. Dust fell like ash. I watched it settle. I did not blink. The air smelled of rot. It smelled of iron. It smelled of old blood. My name is Elias Thorne. I am a builder. I build...

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