The Plague Architect

σε πρόσθεσε στο Literature

2026-06-05 01:45:01 -

The mask was a beak of leather and glass, smelling of dried lavender and vinegar. Through the lenses, the world of 1348 looked like a distorted, yellowed painting. I walked through the streets of Florence, my boots clicking on the cobblestones, while the dying clung to the walls of their houses, their skin mottled with the black blossoms of the pestilence. I was Marcus, and I was a ghost from a...

0 Σχόλια 0 Μοιράστηκε 2 Views 0 Προεπισκόπηση