The Distant Threshold
The glass shattered on the floor. It was a small sound. A sharp crack. Then the hiss of wind through the hole in the windowpane. Elias stood still. His hand trembled. The shard in his grip cut his palm. Blood welled up, dark and warm. He looked at the floor. The pieces of the vase lay there. Blue and white. Shattered. He had not meant to break it. Or so he told himself. The room was cold. The...
0 Σχόλια 0 Μοιράστηκε 10 Views 0 Προεπισκόπηση