The Pale Meridian
The rain had been falling for three days, a steady, gray curtain that turned the world outside the office window into a smear of indistinct shapes. You sat at your desk, the leather chair worn thin at the edges, and you felt the weight of the silence pressing against your eardrums. It was not a peaceful silence. It was the kind of quiet that accumulates, like silt in a riverbed, until it chokes...
0 Σχόλια 0 Μοιράστηκε 1 Views 0 Προεπισκόπηση