The Wistful Mirror
The dream always began with the sound of glass shattering, not in a violent explosion, but in a slow, crystalline sigh that seemed to unspool the air itself. In the dream, the city was made of mirrors, and every reflection showed a face slightly older than his own, wearing a suit that did not fit. Gerald Thorne woke with the taste of dust in his mouth and the lingering, heavy sensation of...
0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 2 Visualizações 0 Anterior