The Golden Harbor
The scent hits you before the memory does, a thick, cloying aroma of boiled lard and dried sage that clings to the back of your throat, forcing you awake with a gasp that feels less like breathing and more like drowning. You are lying on the floor of the attic, the wooden planks cold and damp against your cheek, the air heavy with the suspended dust of centuries. It is not a dream, you realize...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima