The Golden Circuit
The rain hits the slate roof of the cottage in a rhythm that sounds like a slow, dull heartbeat, a sound that has been accompanying you for the three weeks since you were stripped of your rank and sent home to wait for the inquest to decide if you are a hero or a monster, and as you sit at the heavy oak table in the dim kitchen, the one with the cracked leg that you have never quite fixed...
0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 3 مشاهدة 0 معاينة