The Faded Sutra
You wake in a house that is not quite your own, or perhaps it is, but the light has fallen into the corners with such a deliberate, dusty heaviness that the familiar shapes have rearranged themselves into something hostile, a geometry of neglect that presses against your temples while you lie there, staring at the water stain on the ceiling which looks less like a stain and more like a map of...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 2 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen