The Wistful Witness
The banquet hall of the Aetheric Society was not a room in the conventional sense, but a suspended disc of hammered copper and frosted glass, floating in a void of perpetual, humming twilight. It was a place where the air tasted of ozone and crushed violets, and where the laws of physics were treated as mere suggestions to be politely declined by those with the proper credentials. Margaret...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 4 Views 0 Anteprima