The Faded Photograph
The rain had been falling for three days, a relentless, grey curtain that turned the cobblestones of the old textile district into a slick, mirroring void, and it was within the damp, echoing silence of the basement archives at St. Jude’s Asylum for the Insane that Margaret Holloway first realized the photograph in her hand was not merely faded but actively dissolving, the ink bleeding into the...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews