The Pale Tale
The air in the dining room tasted of copper and burnt rosemary. It was a thick, heavy smell, the kind that clings to the back of the throat long after the plate has been cleared. You sit at the head of the table, though your chair is too small for the breadth of your shoulders. The wood is dark walnut, polished to a mirror shine that reflects the trembling of the silverware in your hands. You...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 2 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen