The Faded Portrait

added blog Literature

2026-08-24 14:26:22 -

My hands were shaking as I scraped the burnt edge of the ledger, the charred paper flaking under my thumbnail like dry skin. The smell of smoke was still in the back of my throat, a metallic taste that clung to the tongue even after the wind had shifted from the north to the east, carrying the damp, green rot of the bog into the kitchen. I was trying to write the name of the heir, Eamon, but...

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