The Distant Temple

ha aggiunto una foto Literature

2026-08-22 08:35:57 -

March 12, 1998 I dreamt the key was a tongue. It hung in my mouth, rusted and heavy, tasting of iron and old blood. I tried to speak, but the metal chewed through my gums, and when I woke, my hand was clamped around it in the dark, the knuckles white and aching. It is a small thing, a rusted iron key from my father’s estate, the only object he left that wasn’t sold to pay for the funeral. But...

0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima