The Golden Quest
The dream was always the same: Mara standing in the flour-dusted air of the bakery, her skin turning pale and powdery, crumbling at the edges until she was nothing but a cloud of white suspension in the dim light. Elias woke with a gasp, the damp chill of the cellar seeping into his bones, his fingers clutching the cold, cracked crust of the golden loaf. It was the only thing he had left. The...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews