The Wistful Mountain
Theodolite. Theodolite. The brass instrument sat on the tripod, a cold eye staring into the mist that clung to the cobblestones of Oakhaven. Elias Thorne adjusted the fine screw, his fingers numb from the November chill, and waited for the crosshairs to align with the Whispering Stone. He was forty years old, a surveyor of the municipal archive, and he had come to this ancient city to map the...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen