The Faded Apartment
The wool has gone grey at the elbows, a dulling of the crimson that once signaled your existence in the village of Oakhaven, a place that exists only in the memory of those who have forgotten how to speak of the dead, and you sit in the center of the room with the door barred, not because you fear entry, but because you fear the wind, which carries the scent of rain and the weight of the world...
0 Reacties 0 aandelen 1 Views 0 voorbeeld