The Golden Visit
The air in the Grand Atrium of the Holloway Sanatorium hung thick with the scent of lilies and damp wool, a cloying perfume that seemed to seep into the very pores of your skin, coating your lungs with a sweetness that tasted faintly of rot beneath its delicate surface. You stood amidst the crowd, a silent figure in a suit that had been pressed that very morning by the head nurse, the fabric...
0 Commentaires 0 Parts 1 Vue 0 Aperçu