The Wistful Ashes
The banquet hall hums with the low, electric thrum of the ventilation system, a sound that has become the baseline for your heartbeat over the last decade. You sit at the head of the long mahogany table, the wood polished to a mirror finish, reflecting the sterile, white light that floods the room from above. There are no windows. There have never been windows in the Hall. The air is cool,...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima