The Golden Greenhouse
The report sits on the desk. It is thin. Too thin. You read it again. The ink is dry. The paper is cheap. You are the Archivist. You do not write reports. You verify them. You check the seal. The seal is broken. You look at the door. It is closed. The office is cold. The air tastes of dust and old wood. You are alone. Or so you think. You are married to Elias. You love him. This is a fact. It...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews