The Distant Summer

added blog Literature

2026-08-25 00:58:41 -

The vial was warm against her palm, the glass sweating with condensation that smelled of iron and old rain. Deirdre Tuohey stood in the corner of the debtors’ parlor, her back to the door, watching the dust motes dance in the single beam of afternoon light that cut through the grime on the windowpane. The room reeked of damp wool and the stale, sweet decay of the peat fires that had gone out...

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