The Wistful Atlas
The steam from the locomotive, thick and sulfurous, clings to your woolen coat as you step off the platform in the town of Oakhaven, a place where the soot from the textile mills settles into the creases of the stone bridges and the lines of the human face with equal, indifferent persistence. You are Thomas Whitmore, a man who has spent the last decade in the quiet, dust-moted sanctuaries of...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima