The Wistful Crossroads

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 18:48:26 -

I woke with the taste of iron in my mouth and the weight of a stone on my chest. It was the bell tower. In the dream, it was not stone but bone, cracked along the spine, leaking a rust-colored sap that pooled on the flagstones of the nave. I knew, with a certainty that bypassed reason, that the foundation was failing. I am Elias, forty-two, a scribe in the Abbey of St. Jude, and I have spent...

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