The Faded Guest

σε πρόσθεσε στο Literature

2026-08-23 20:01:40 -

The Faded Guest

I had counted three hundred and twelve lines of the Psalms before the ink began to bleed, a slow, black weeping that stained the vellum like a bruise forming under skin. The scriptorium was cold, the kind of damp chill that settles in the bones and refuses to leave, and the only sound was the scratch of my quill against the parchment and the distant, rhythmic thud of the bellows from the forge...

0 Σχόλια 0 Μοιράστηκε 1 Views 0 Προεπισκόπηση