The Distant Summer
The rain had not stopped for three days, a relentless, industrial downpour that turned the cobblestones of the district into slick, black mirrors reflecting the gaslight and the wet, shivering souls of the city. I stood at the head of the table in the dimly lit precinct, the air thick with the smell of stale tobacco and the metallic tang of fear, watching the water drip from the eaves in a...
0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 3 Views 0 previzualizare