The Golden Farce
You are shaking again, Elias. Mara’s voice was flat, stripped of the warmth he had known for twenty years. She stood by the door of their small room above the barracks, her hands clasped tightly over her apron. The fabric was rough against her knuckles, the threads worn thin at the edges. She looked at his fingers, then at his face. Her eyes were hard. They were the eyes of a woman who had...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima