The Faded Sutra
You are wearing the coat again, Edmund, Margaret said, her voice flat and dry as the dust motes dancing in the single shaft of light that pierced the gloom of the office. It is not merely a garment, Edmund, it is a shackle, and you are dragging the rusted hinges of your own dignity across the floorboards with every step you take, so why do you persist in this self-flagellation, this theatrical...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews