The Golden Myth
You wake up with the taste of burnt sugar on your tongue, a cloying, thick sweetness that clings to the back of your throat and refuses to be swallowed, a sensory ghost of a meal you do not remember eating, lingering in the humid air of the small, rented room where you have been sleeping since the day the snow began to fall without any particular reason other than the fact that it was winter...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima