The Wistful Silence
The hive died in the dark. That is the only thing that matters. The rest is noise. The rest is the hum of the air conditioning, the fluorescent buzz, the click of keys on the steel desk. We are in the basement of the Department of Civic Order. We are below the streets. We are below the rain. I sat before the file. It was thin. One page. A name. A date. A single, dry fact. "Look at it again,"...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen