The Distant Affair
The train cut through the gray morning, a steel serpent shedding steam into the cold, and I sat with my hands wrapped around a tin cup of tea that had long since gone lukewarm. My left palm, the one that had once held the chisel with such ferocity, was now mapped with lines of scar tissue, a landscape of healed violence that pulsed faintly in the chill air. We were moving toward the capital,...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews