The Pale Path
The road is white. Not snow. Dust. Fine, pale dust that coats the tongue and the throat. You walk. Your feet are bare. The stones are sharp. They cut the soles of your feet. You do not feel it. You feel the weight of the basket. It is full of stones. Smooth, river stones. You must carry them. The house is ahead. It is large. It is white. The paint is peeling. The windows are dark. The doors are...
0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 2 Visualizações 0 Anterior