The Distant Ghost
The wool coat had begun to shed its reality, fraying at the elbows where the friction of time had worn the fabric thin to a gossamer veil that caught the pale, sickly light of the apartment in a way that suggested it was not woven from sheep’s fleece but from the condensed breath of the dead, and Elias stood before the full-length mirror, holding the garment up against his own lanky frame,...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima