The Pale Mist
The fog rolls in. It is thick. It is gray. It smells of wet wool and old stone. You stand on the bridge. The water below is black. You hold your lantern. The glass is cracked. The flame flickers. You are leaving. This is a fact. You have packed your bag. It is small. It is brown. It contains three shirts. It contains a comb. It contains the letter. The letter is from the Magistrate. He calls...
0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 5 Views 0 önizleme