The Wistful Saga
The fog that rolled in from the harbor did not merely obscure the city; it erased it, turning the stone facades of the old quarter into ghostly suggestions of what had once been solid, a memory of architecture rather than the thing itself, and you stood at the threshold of the Ministry of Antiquities, feeling the cold dampness seep through the heavy wool of your coat, a chill that had nothing...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 2 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen