The Distant Threshold
The coat is not merely wool and thread, but the skin of a ghost that has forgotten its name, and you have been wearing it for so long that the seams have fused into the flesh of your own arms, creating a second body that breathes when you sleep and stiffens when you wake. You dream of a corridor that stretches into an infinity of grey stone, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and old...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews