The Pale Echo
The rain has not stopped for three days, a persistent, grey curtain that dissolves the edges of the world and turns the cobblestones of the mill town into a slick, mirror-like expanse where your reflection is the only thing that feels real. You are standing in the center of the town square, holding the heavy wool coat that was once yours, the one with the silver buttons that catch the dim light...
0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 1 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр