The Wistful Cipher
The rain had been falling for three days when you finally let the brass key go. It did not clink against the cobblestones as you released it; instead, it sank into the wet earth with a soft, sucking sound, as if the ground itself were hungry for the metal. You stood there, your collar turned up against the chill, watching the spot where the key had vanished. In your hand, you still held the...
0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 1 Visualizações 0 Anterior