The Faded Road
The rain had stopped, but the air still held the weight of it. It sat heavy on the shoulders of the house, a damp shroud that would not lift. Elias stood in the center of the room, his boots clicking softly against the hardwood. The floor was old. The grooves where the wood had worn smooth were deep, dark channels carved by decades of footsteps. He ran his hand over them. The grain was rough...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 4 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen