The Wistful Witness

added blog Literature

2026-08-23 14:23:50 -

The dream is always the same, a jagged line of grey stones splitting down the center of a road that does not exist, and you wake with the taste of dust in your mouth and the sound of a wet, rattling cough coming from the bed beside you. It is the winter of 1347, and the air in your small chamber above the scriptorium is so cold that your breath forms a pale cloud before it dissipates into the...

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