The Faded Paradox
The fog did not roll in; it seeped, a cold, gray breath that clung to the wool of your coat and the brass fittings of the library’s doors. You were not supposed to be there. The university had locked its gates an hour ago, sealing the faculty within their offices, their studies, their small, heated islands of intellect. But you had slipped out the service entrance, drawn by a pull you could not...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews