The Lady of Whitby Abbey
I The sea wind off the North Sea carried salt and something older than salt—the breath of centuries trapped in the cliffs of Whitby. It was October 1887, and the town clung to its Yorkshire coastline like a barnacle to the hull of a dying ship. Rain fell in sheets, and the gulls screamed above Whitby Abbey, those crumbling Gothic ruins that had stood since the seventh century, watching empires...
0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 8 مشاهدة 0 معاينة