The Faded Apartment
The fog settles into the crevices of your skin before it ever touches the ground, a cold, wet thing that breathes against your ribs like a sleeping animal. You are not entirely human, though you look the part, and the villagers of the valley below have long since stopped asking why your shadow falls in the wrong direction when the sun is high. You are the creature of the hearth, the smoke, the...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews