The Pale Meridian

أضاف وظيفة جديدة Literature

2026-08-22 05:21:10 -

The Pale Meridian

The air tastes of rust. You taste it on your tongue. Metallic. Sharp. You are alone. The room is small. Square. Stone walls. Cold. You sit on the floor. Your back is against the stone. It bites through your uniform. Grey wool. It is old. It smells of damp earth and sweat. You are a soldier. You do not know for how long. Time is a blur. A grey smear. Outside, there is nothing. Silence. Heavy....

0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 1 مشاهدة 0 معاينة