The Wistful Witness

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 13:45:38 -

The dream was always the same. It was a smell first, thick and cloying, like meat left in the sun. Then came the sight of the flesh, peeling away from the bone in long, grey strips. Sir Edmund woke with a gasp, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. The year was 1348, and the air in his chamber was cold, biting at his exposed skin. He sat up, the sheets twisting around his...

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