The book of John Doe
The desert offers no apology for its silence. Hours pass beneath the blazing eye of the sun, and each night the crow returns. Continue Reading
Passages or chapters from novels
The desert offers no apology for its silence. Hours pass beneath the blazing eye of the sun, and each night the crow returns. Continue Reading →
The desert stretches ahead like a vast, indifferent sea. Day after day you ride, pushing through heat and wind that scrape at your skin like invisible claws. Continue Reading →
The desert night is long and heavy with unease. The magus remains silent, his gaze steady across the fire Continue Reading →
The first light of dawn barely touches the dunes when you and your guide slip away from the mercenary camp Continue Reading →
You don’t want to say it aloud, but the truth is already ringing in your chest: Robert is right.The circle is tightening. You glance once more toward the oncoming riders—no flags, no shouts, only the deadly silence of professionals. You… Continue Reading →
I grew up in a very small village consisting of eighty-one houses. Continue Reading →
The morning sun claws its way over the rim of the dunes, casting long, broken shadows across the cracked earth. Continue Reading →
You feel the weight of the moment pressing in.
The fire flickers.
The Magus waits. Continue Reading →
You forget the Magi’s words. Not because they lacked weight—but because the desert has a way of stripping you bare. Continue Reading →
You sit still, flanked by Sir Stevan and Robert, as the dark riders crest the dune and descend toward you. Your heart hammers, but you show nothing. Continue Reading →