The Distant Metropolis
The sky did not fall so much as it peeled away, layer by layer, like the rind of a bruised fruit, revealing a void that was not black but a profound, humming white, a silence so absolute that it swallowed the sound of the screaming that had preceded it, and in that suspended moment, Elias Thorne felt the sudden, terrifying lightness of his own spine, that central pillar of bone and cartilage...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews