The Pale Verdict
The dream is always the same. You are standing in the lobby of the Meridian Tower, but the marble floor is not marble. It is skin. It stretches and taut under your boots, pulsing with a faint, sub-dermal blue light. You try to walk, but the floor refuses to hold your weight. It sinks. You are not falling; you are being absorbed. Then you wake, gasping, in the narrow cot of your temporary office...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen