The Faded Root
The morning the bell tower cracked, it did not sound like a sound at all but rather a long, dry exhalation that seemed to suck the air out of the village of Oakhaven, leaving behind a silence so profound and absolute that it felt less like an absence of noise and more like a heavy, wet blanket draped over the shoulders of every soul who remained to witness the end of an age that had no business...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 2 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen