The Pale Fracture
The bell rang. It was a dull sound. A thud. Like a stone hitting mud. Elara stood by the window. The glass was cold. It bit her fingers. Outside, the sky was grey. It was always grey. The sun had not shown itself in weeks. Maybe months. Time was a slippery thing here. It pooled in the corners. It dripped from the ceiling. She held the shard. It was small. No bigger than her thumb. Pale. White....
0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 1 Visualizações 0 Anterior