The Faded Portrait
The bell tolled. It was a deep, bronze sound. It shook the dust from the rafters. Silas stood at the gate. He held his staff. The wood was dark. The wood was worn. He looked at the road. The road was long. The road was gray. Margaret stood beside him. Her face was pale. Her hands were cold. She did not speak. She did not move. The air was still. The air was heavy. The Abbey loomed behind them....
0 Σχόλια 0 Μοιράστηκε 1 Views 0 Προεπισκόπηση