The Distant Promise
The hammer struck. The sound was a dry crack, like a bone snapping in the dark. Margaret stood in the center of the room, her hands raised, her palms bleeding. The plaster dust hung in the air, a grey fog that tasted of chalk and old rot. She was not trying to break the wall. She was trying to keep it from breaking her. The house was dying. It had been dying for months, but today it chose...
0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 3 Views 0 önizleme