The Golden Oath
The building stands. It has always stood. You are inside. The air is cold. It tastes of dust and old ink. You sit at your desk. The wood is worn smooth. Your hands rest on the surface. They are still. They have been still for a long time. This is the Ministry. It is the heart of the machine. The machine breathes. It breathes through the windows. It breathes through the vents. It breathes...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews