The Pale Tower
The fire did not consume the building so much as it peeled it away, layer by layer, in a slow exhalation of smoke that smelled of wet ash and old paper, a scent that had become the very air I breathed in my sleep since I arrived in this city that felt less like a place and more like a verdict. I stood at the edge of the crowd, my coat buttoned to the chin against the November chill, watching...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews