The Wistful Show
The rain fell on the slate roofs of Oakhaven like a whispered apology, slicking the cobblestones until they gleamed with a cold, metallic sheen. Elias Vane stood alone in the center of the town square, the wet wool of his greatcoat heavy against his shoulders, a weight that mirrored the silence pressing against his chest. He was a man carved from the stillness of the pines that bordered the...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 3 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen