The Distant Journey
The rain had been falling for three days, a persistent, cold sheet that turned the cobblestones of the lower town into a slick, gray mirror reflecting the soot-stained windows of the apothecary. Elias Thorne sat in the back room, his hands resting on the worn leather of a book he had not read in years, his eyes fixed on the knot in his left forearm. The vein there was thick, pulsing with a...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen