The Distant Whispers
The vial in Elias’s hand weighed three ounces of silver and mercury, but it felt heavier, as if the glass itself were saturated with the gravity of the failing world. He counted the drops with a metronome’s precision, one, two, three, watching the dark liquid bead on the tip of the quill before it touched the parchment, a rhythm that had sustained his sanity for the last six months since the...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima