The Distant Machine
The gears grind like teeth. I see double. 14 November, 1893 The shadow in the tower has grown teeth. It is not a metaphor, though the village treats it as one. When the wind shifts through the oak boughs at midnight, the darkness in the bell chamber thickens, coalescing into a shape that leans against the mechanism. I write this by the light of a tallow candle, my hand steady only because I...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews