The Distant Summer
The silence in the house of Arthur Vane was not an absence of sound but a presence, a thick, velvet curtain drawn tight against the windows, muffling the world outside and sealing the interior in a breathless, amber-colored stasis where the dust motes danced in slow, deliberate circles around the towering mahogany bookcases that lined the walls of the study, each volume a silent witness to the...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews