The Golden Farce
The rain fell like a verdict. "Your heart is splitting," said the Doctor. He did not look up. His hands were deep in the clay of a bowl, mixing pigment with water. "You feel it, do you not? The crack." Miles stood in the doorway. The mud from the road clung to his boots. He was a man of the outside, a wanderer, a man who had crossed the sea to find a land that was not his. He had come here for...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews