The Golden Myth
The dream was not of flight, but of sediment. In the mind of Dr. Arthur Penhaligon, the world was a stratified geological column, each layer compressed by the weight of time into a dense, dark truth. He lay awake in the narrow, damp bed of his university quarters, listening to the rain hammer against the single pane of glass, a rhythmic percussion that sounded like the scratching of quills on...
0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 1 Views 0 previzualizare