The Distant Legend
The rain in Harrow’s End did not fall so much as it hung, a suspended grey curtain that blurred the boundary between the cobblestones and the sky. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the village square, his boots sinking slightly into the mud that had gathered in the cracks, watching the figure of Julian Vane walk away. It was a parting that felt less like a farewell and more like an...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews