The Faded Apartment
The dream began not with the usual gray fog of the subterranean vaults, but with the sudden, violent eruption of a single, impossible flower. It was a lily, vast and translucent, blooming in the center of the stone chamber where Silas Vane had spent the last three decades cataloging the bones of the dead. The petals were not white, but the deep, bruised purple of old blood, and they unfolded...
0 Comments 0 Shares 4 Views 0 Reviews