The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-25 08:26:19 -

The quill was heavy, a feather of black swan, and my fingers, wrapped around its shaft, felt the weight of every mistake I had made in forty-two years. I sat in the scriptorium of the Abbey of St. Jude, the candlelight flickering against the damp stone walls, and I tried to form the letter 'a' in the final chapter of the Chronicle. My hand trembled. It was a palsy, the physicians said, a...

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