The Distant Promise
The rain against the glass did not fall so much as it pressed, a persistent, grey palm against the single pane of the watchtower, blurring the world outside into a smear of wet asphalt and dying streetlights until the only thing that remained sharp and terrifyingly real was the reflection staring back from the dark interior of the room. "You look like a man haunting his own grave, Sergeant,"...
0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 1 Views 0 previzualizare