The Golden Oath
The bread is sour. You know this before you bite. The crust is thick, dark as a bruise, and the crumb inside is dry. It tastes of ash and old flour. You sit at the edge of the stone table in the village square. The rain has stopped, but the air is heavy. It clings to your skin. It smells of wet wool and horse sweat. Elias sits across from you. He does not look at the bread. He looks at the mud....
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen