The Golden Maze
The rain hit the tin roof like a handful of gravel. I counted the drops. One. Two. Three. They did not stop. I am old now. My hands shake. The left one more than the right. It has been this way for twenty years. Since the winter I lost my son. Since the winter I lost myself. I am a teacher. Or I was. I taught history. I taught the fall of empires. I taught the rise of machines. I believed in...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen