The Pale Circus
The rain had been falling since before dawn, a steady, grey curtain that erased the horizon and turned the road into a slurry of mud and broken leaves, a texture that clogged the gears of Elias’s mind just as it clogged the axles of his horse-drawn cart. He sat on the driver’s seat, his fingers white-knuckled around the reins, watching the water bead on the windshield and slide down in long,...
0 Reacties 0 aandelen 2 Views 0 voorbeeld