The Golden Oath
The city is a beast that sleeps with its eyes open, and you are the fly buzzing against the glass of its window. You remember the dream. In it, the golden oath is not a ring or a scroll but a jagged piece of bone, sharp enough to cut the air, and your brother, David, is holding it in his teeth, bleeding onto the white lace of the hospital sheets. You wake with the taste of iron in your mouth,...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen