The Distant Summer
The spool of silver thread sat on the workbench, humming with a low, metallic vibration that Elias Thorne felt in his teeth before he heard it in the air. It was a commission for Mayor Blackwood, a coat of charcoal wool that needed to be finished by the autumn equinox, and it was the only thing standing between Elias and the ruin of his shop. For twenty years, he had stitched in the fog-bound...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen