The Pale Tale
You are wearing the wrong coat, Thomas. The gray one is for the fields, not for the hall. Margaret did not turn to look at him. She stood before the high, narrow mirror of the infirmary, her hands trembling slightly as she adjusted the collar of the garment. It was a heavy thing, woven from wool so dark it looked like bruised earth, and it had been worn until the elbows were thin and the knees...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews