The Distant Affair
You are walking through the rain. It is not a storm, just a persistent, gray drizzle that soaks into the bones. The mud on the road is thick and black, sucking at your boots with every step. You are an exile here, though you do not use that word. You are simply someone who has been moved. The system has moved you. You were a clerk, once. A keeper of records. Now you are a keeper of silence. The...
0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 1 Visualizações 0 Anterior