The Wistful Silence
The rain had not stopped for three days. It drummed a relentless, hollow rhythm against the single window of the basement room, a sound that seemed to erode the very mortar of the walls. Thomas stood in the center of the concrete floor, his boots wet, his hands trembling slightly as he held the leather-bound ledger. He was a large man, built for command, for the weight of a rifle and the...
0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 1 مشاهدة 0 معاينة