The Wistful Letter
The ink was still wet on the final line when the cough seized Arthur Vane, a wet, tearing sound that echoed off the high, vaulted ceiling of the clerk’s office. He dabbed his lips with a handkerchief already stiff with dark spots, then smoothed the paper against the desk, his fingers trembling not from cold, but from the fever that had settled into his marrow three days prior. The date in the...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews