The Wistful Dinner
The signal tower stood like a jagged tooth against the bruised sky, its iron lattice groaning under the weight of the November wind, and young Elias Thorne stood at its base, holding a coil of copper wire that hummed with a potential energy so thick it tasted of ozone and old blood on the back of his tongue. He was fourteen, a boy of sharp elbows and softer eyes, and he had climbed this...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen