The Distant Ghost
The rain had not stopped for three days, a relentless, grey curtain that blurred the line between the earth and the sky, turning the small stone village of Oakhaven into a place suspended in time, where the air tasted of wet moss and old, damp sorrow. Elara sat by the hearth in the common room of the inn, her hands wrapped around a cup of tea that had long since gone cold, her fingers white...
0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 4 Visualizações 0 Anterior