The Distant Summer
The road to the village of Oakhaven is a ribbon of crushed stone that unravels into the mist, a path you have walked so many times in the last thirty years that the grooves in your memory are deeper than the ruts in the earth, and you drive slowly, the engine of the old car humming a low, persistent note against the silence of the valley, feeling the weight of the years pressing down on your...
0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 1 مشاهدة 0 معاينة