The Wistful Skyline
The sky did not break; it unspooled. It was a Tuesday in late October, the air thick with the scent of wet coal and decaying leaves, when the firmament above the industrial district of Millhaven tore open like a cheap silk lining. There was no sound, only a sudden, violent absence of light, followed by a blinding, geometric white that burned itself into the retinas of every man, woman, and...
0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 2 Views 0 previzualizare