The Pale Bridge
"You are holding it wrong," you say. Your voice is thin. It cuts the air. The air is thick. It tastes of dust. And old blood. You hold the book. The cover is black. It is worn. The spine is cracked. It bends like a dry leaf. You are in the library. The room is large. The windows are high. The glass is stained. Light comes in. It is gray. It is cold. It falls on the table. You are alone. Or so...
0 Commentarios 0 Acciones 26 Views 0 Vista previa