The Golden Oath
The rain hit the blacktop in sheets. It drummed against the helmets of the men standing in the square. They stood still. They stood silent. The water ran down their visors. It blurred the world. It made the faces of the crowd indistinct. They were just shapes. They were just bodies. Captain Elias Thorne stood at the front. His boots were heavy. They were wet. The mud seeped into the leather. It...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima