The Faded Sutra
The letter lay on the desk, the ink still wet, smelling of iron and old paper. You read it twice, the words blurring as your eyes burned. It was a formal reprimand from Chief Halloway, citing your "negligence" in the matter of the Scribe. You folded it into a small square and dropped it into the wastebasket, the paper tearing softly against the metal rim. Outside, the rain in Ostra did not...
0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 1 Views 0 önizleme