The Wistful Witness

added blog Literature

2026-08-25 15:19:03 -

Act I I remember the sound before I remember the light, a low, grinding thrum that lived in the molars and the base of the skull, a vibration that had no source in the visible world. It was the first true dark of autumn, the kind that settles into the pine land gone to beetle kill, turning the coastal fog into a physical weight that pressed against the window glass of the barrack room. I am...

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