The Pale Exile

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-20 12:07:03 -

The Pale Exile

The rain hit the tin roof like a handful of gravel. Ellis sat by the window. He watched the water run down the glass. It blurred the street below. The street was empty. It was always empty now. He adjusted his coat. The buttons were brass. They were worn smooth. He had polished them that morning. His hands shook. Not from the cold. From the waiting. The clock on the mantel ticked. Tick. Tick....

0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 1 Views 0 previzualizare