The Pale Circus
The fluorescent lights of the Oakhaven Community Clinic hummed with a frequency that felt like a migraine trapped behind your eyes. You adjusted the sterile field, your hands steady despite the tremor in your chest, and looked at the boy lying on the table. He was twelve, pale as the winter snow that had been dusting the rust-belt streets for three days, and he was the only thing in your life...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima