The Distant Metropolis
The road did not end; it simply forgot how to be a road and became a river of black mist that swallowed the wheels of the cart whole. Elara sat on the edge of the wooden crate, her fingers wrapped tight around a single, heavy brass button, its surface warm and humming with a low, subterranean vibration that she could feel in her teeth. It was a small thing, a piece of a coat she had worn for...
0 Σχόλια 0 Μοιράστηκε 3 Views 0 Προεπισκόπηση