The Faded Portrait

added blog Literature

2026-08-25 05:27:55 -

In the year of our Lord 1342, the ink on the parchment in my hands has begun to lift, flaking away like dried mud from a cracked riverbed, and I am holding it over the fire in the hollow of the ridge where the wind has stopped screaming. I am Thomas Bradshaw, a scribe of modest standing in the village of Ashford, and I am thirty years old, though the cold has made my joints feel as brittle as...

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