The Distant Journey
The bottle sat on the wooden table, a dark, heavy thing of glass that seemed to absorb the gray light of the afternoon. It was full of a thick, amber liquid that smelled of burnt sugar and bitter herbs. It was medicine, or so the label claimed, though the text was faded and curled, illegible in the damp air of the kitchen. Thomas held it in both hands, the glass cold against his palms, feeling...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima