The Mirror of Decadence
The fog had been settling over Dublin since dusk, the kind of thick, yellow fog that makes the gas lamps look like dying stars and turns the cobblestone streets into rivers of reflected light. Dr. Edgar Molloy stood at his study window and watched it creep toward the house, the way a thief creeps toward his prey—slowly, silently, with the certainty of someone who knows he will arrive...
0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews