The Golden Mirror
The fire starts in the boiler room. It is a Tuesday. The air in the station is thick with the smell of wet wool and stale coffee. You are on duty. Your uniform is pressed. Your boots are polished. You stand in the center of the main hall. The clock above the entrance ticks. Tick. Tick. Tick. It sounds like a heartbeat slowing down. You see the smoke first. It curls from the floor grating....
0 Reacties 0 aandelen 2 Views 0 voorbeeld