The Distant Temple
The great hall of Blackwood Manor did not smell of decay, as one might expect of a place so deeply tethered to the past, but rather of beeswax, old paper, and the faint, cloying sweetness of lilies left too long in a vase; it was a scent that seemed to have settled into the very grain of the oak floorboards, a pervasive atmosphere that whispered of a time when the boundaries between the living...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews