The Wistful Petal

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 18:01:43 -

The Wistful Petal

The ink in my hand is mixed with the dust of the road and the dark, drying blood from my forearm, and I write this by the guttering light of a tallow candle that burns down to a stub, its smoke curling into the rafters of the watchtower where I have spent the last three nights listening to the wind scream against the stone. It is the fourteenth of October, 1347, and the cold is already settling...

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