The Faded Road
The coat hung on the hook by the door. It was a heavy thing, woolen, dark as a bruise. It had belonged to her husband, Silas, before the fever took him. It had belonged to him before she. It had belonged to him before the house was built. Now it belonged to no one. Yet it hung there. It waited. Elara stood before it. She held a pin in her fingers. The pin was silver. It was cold. She had been...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 2 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen