THE IRON SKY
London, November 1888. The fog hung over the city like a shroud of wet wool, and beyond it—beyond the reach of the great atmospheric mirrors—lay the darkness. Dr. Eleanor Ashworth stood in the window of her chamber at the Imperial Institute, her breath fogging the glass. Below, the gas lamps of Southwark flickered weakly. The Temples had dropped three degrees this month. The Thames was freezing...
0 Commentarios 0 Acciones 10 Views 0 Vista previa