The Pale Verdict
The rain had been falling on the roof of the estate for three days, a relentless, hollow drumming that seemed to echo the rhythm of your own failing heart. You sat in the high-backed chair by the window, the leather worn thin in the places your hands had gripped it during decades of anxious waits. Outside, the garden was a blur of grey and green, the roses crushed under the weight of the storm....
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 2 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen