The Pale Tower
The rain in the city of Oakhaven did not wash the streets clean; it merely pressed the grime deeper into the cobblestones, turning the gutters into ribbons of black sludge. In the attic room that smelled of damp wool and stale bread, Elias sat by the window, his knees drawn up to his chest. He was twelve, though the hunger in his belly made him feel older, hollowed out like a dry husk. Outside,...
0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 1 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр