The Machine Knows Your Sin
The salon was beneath the cellars of Montmartre, accessible only by a spiral staircase that descended through three levels of earth until you emerged into a space that existed outside of time. The walls were covered in velvet the color of dried blood. Candles flickered in iron sconces, casting long shadows that moved like living things across the ceiling. The air smelled of opium and wax and...
0 Reacties 0 aandelen 1 Views 0 voorbeeld