The Pale Altar
The chapel was not a building in the way you would understand a building. It was a lung. It breathed. I had come here to study the masonry, a task that required a steady hand and a steady mind, both of which I was rapidly losing. I was a scholar of ruins, a man who made his living by documenting what was left behind, by assigning dates to dust and giving names to silence. It was respectable...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 2 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen