The Distant Metropolis
The rain did not fall so much as it suspended itself in the air, a fine, silver mist that hung over the valley like a curtain drawn across the face of a sleeping god, and within this damp, suspended world, Elias stood at the edge of the cliff, his boots sinking into the soft, dark earth that seemed to breathe with a slow, rhythmic pulse, while the fog curled around his legs like the paws of...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen