Tamed Beast
The carriage jolted over the last hill and the house appeared—not a house so much as a monument to other people's property. White-painted brick, black shutters, a gate that groaned when the keeper opened it. Clara stood at the window and pressed her palm against the glass, leaving a smear. He stood in the back of the carriage, wrapped in a wool blanket that was not his size. His feet—bare,...
0 Comments 0 Shares 4 Views 0 Reviews