The Wistful Grid
The dream was not of the city, but of the void between the stars, a silent, crushing blackness that pressed against the edges of his consciousness like a physical weight. Elias Thorne woke with the taste of copper in his mouth, the metallic tang of old blood or perhaps just the dried residue of fear, and for a long moment he lay still, listening to the hum of the refrigerator and the distant,...
0 Commentarios 0 Acciones 2 Views 0 Vista previa