The Distant Crown
The fog was not a veil but a wall, dense and grey, pressing against the glass of the locomotive with the weight of a living thing. I sat in the observation car, my hands resting on the cold iron railing, watching the rails disappear into the white nothingness ahead. The engine roared, a mechanical beast straining against the inertia of the earth, and every few seconds the lights of the...
0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 4 Visualizações 0 Anterior