The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 12:18:07 -

The convoy’s taillights bled into the grey snow until they were indistinguishable from the dying daylight, leaving Elias Thorne standing alone at the iron gate of Sentinel Post, his breath a sharp, white plume in the freezing air. He was forty-two, a man whose joints ached with the damp cold that seeped into the bones of the old watchtower, and he watched his younger brother Julian drive away...

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