The Golden Farce
The list was pinned to the door of the ward with a rusted nail. It was not a medical chart, but a ledger of debts, written in a hand that shook as much as the ink did. My name was at the bottom. Silas Vane. Amount due: the life of Thomas. I read it twice, the cold air from the window biting at my knuckles, then I folded the paper and shoved it into my coat pocket. I was forty-two, a border...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen