The Faded Ruin
"Look at it," says the Warden. His voice is dry, like leaves skittering on pavement. "It is still there. We burned the books. We burned the archives. We burned the memories. Yet the mark remains." You do not look at him. You look at the wall. The stone is cold. It is old. It is not stone. It is skin. "Is it a scar?" you ask. "It is a seal," he replies. He taps his cane against the floor. *Tap....
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima