The Wistful Skyline
The coat is not merely a garment; it is the skin you have worn since the moment you first understood that the world was not made for you, and that you were, consequently, made to be devoured by it. You stand at the edge of the cliff, where the grass grows thin and brittle, like the old women who once tended these fields before the fog took them. The wind here does not blow; it breathes, a long,...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews