The Distant Affair
The rain did not fall. It seeped. It oozed out of the grey sky like a bruise spreading under skin. Mara stood at the window of the East Wing. The glass was thick. Old. It hummed with a low, subsonic vibration that she felt in her teeth. Below, the grounds of Blackwood Hall were a blur of mud and dark water. The trees were stripped. They looked like fingers reaching up from a grave. She turned...
0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 1 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр