The Golden Quest
The house stands at the end of the long, grey driveway, a monolith of pale stone that has slowly, over the last forty years, surrendered its sharp edges to the softening touch of weather and neglect, and you stand before it now with your hands buried deep in the pockets of a coat that is too thin for the biting November wind, watching the way the ivy has strangled the west window, turning the...
0 Commentaires 0 Parts 1 Vue 0 Aperçu