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Die Tatarenwüste by
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Carol
is on page 61 of 216
The wind beats against the officer’s splendid cloak and even the blue shadow on the snow waves like a flag. The sentry stands motionless. The moon moves ever so slowly yet without losing a single moment, impatient for dawn.
— Jun 02, 2026 05:20PM
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Carol
is on page 37 of 216
You feel something has changed. The sun no longer seems motionless; it’s rather moving rapidly, much to your dismay, leaving you hardly any time to watch it plummet toward the edge of the horizon. You notice the clouds no longer lag in the azure gulfs of the sky but fly in such haste they’re heaped on top of each other. You grasp the passage of time and the inevitable end of the journey.
— Jun 01, 2026 06:09PM
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