The Pale Dance

ha aggiunto una foto Literature

2026-08-17 15:18:09 -

The Pale Dance

The rain fell on the ridge like a grey curtain. It did not wash the blood from the dirt. It only made the mud slick and cold. Elias Thorne walked. His boots were heavy. They were soaked through. The leather had turned to paste. He felt the weight of his coat. It was soaked too. The wind cut through it. It bit at his neck. He did not stop. He could not stop. The road ahead was a line of brown....

0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima