The Wistful Cipher
The rain against the windowpane was a rhythmic tapping, a mechanical code that seemed to decode the silence of the study. You sat in the high-backed leather chair, your fingers stained with ink, your eyes fixed on the glass where the water droplets raced each other down the pane. Outside, the university campus lay dormant under a gray sky, but inside, the air was thick with the scent of old...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima