The Golden Mirror
The rain fell in sheets of gray steel, hammering against the tin roof of the moving van, a rhythmic, metallic thrum that Marnie had come to associate with the sound of her own unraveling mind. She sat in the driver’s seat, hands gripping the wheel so tightly that her knuckles had turned the color of old bone, watching the highway stretch out before her like a ribbon of wet slate. The year was...
0 Σχόλια 0 Μοιράστηκε 1 Views 0 Προεπισκόπηση