The Distant Clue
The road was mud. It was thick and black and hungry. We walked. My feet sank. I felt the pull. It was not just gravity. It was the earth itself. It wanted to keep me. I carried the box. It was small. It was wood. It was old. Inside was the moth. It was white. It was dead. Or perhaps it was sleeping. I did not know. I only knew it was mine. I held it close to my chest. The wood was cold. The air...
0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 1 Visualizações 0 Anterior