The Wistful Atlas
The roof came off first, or at least that is what the village elders would later tell the children, though you were not there to hear the thunder that tore the sky open above the Ashworth manor. You were in the cellar, huddled in the dark with the smell of wet stone and rotting apples thick in your throat, while the rain hammered against the dirt floor above you like a thousand tiny fists...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima