The Distant Wound
The town of Oakhaven did not sleep; it merely held its breath, a long, collective inhalation that stretched across the cobblestone streets and beneath the iron-grey sky. You stood at the edge of the town square, your boots planted firmly in the wet mud, feeling the cold seep up through the soles into your bones, a chill that had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with the fact...
0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 3 Views 0 previzualizare