The Distant Promise
The iron gate of the Blackwood Institute does not rust. This is the first thing you notice, the second being that the air tastes of copper and wet stone. You are standing in the courtyard, but you are not sure how long you have been there. Time here is not a river; it is a stagnant pool, thick and black. You remember the dream. In the dream, you were small, wearing clothes that smelled of...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews