The Pale Meridian
The cold bit through wool. It bit through leather. It bit into bone. Elias walked. The road was grey. The sky was grey. The mist clung to the earth like a shroud. He carried a pack. It was heavy. It was light. It held only paper. Paper and ink. He had crossed the river. The water was black. It moved slow. It did not care for him. He was an exile. He was a thief. He had stolen the name. He had...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 3 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen