The Golden Greenhouse
He woke in a dream of glass. It was thick. Oily. The light came through in fractured shards. He tried to move. He could not. His body was stone. His mind was water. "Get up," said a voice. It was his own. He opened his eyes. The room was small. The walls were peeling. The floorboards groaned under his weight. He stood. He looked at the mirror. The man in the glass had a scar across his cheek....
0 Σχόλια 0 Μοιράστηκε 2 Views 0 Προεπισκόπηση