The Faded Portrait

added blog Literature

2026-08-23 13:57:44 -

The dream was always the same: a wall closing in, brick by brick, until the air turned to dust. I woke with the taste of limestone in my mouth, the grit grinding against my molars. It was the night before the winter solstice, and the Halloran estate stood black against the sky, a monument to silence. I am Elias, forty-two, and my hands are cracked from the cold and the chisel. I have twelve...

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