The Faded Apartment
The train did not so much arrive as it seeped into the station, a long, exhaling beast of iron and steam that smelled of wet wool and old copper. Elara stood at the edge of the platform, her fingers white-knuckled around the handle of a suitcase that was less a vessel for clothes and more a reliquary for her past, its leather worn smooth by the friction of a thousand similar journeys. She was...
0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 3 Views 0 previzualizare