The Wistful Skyline
The count was simple: four hours until the shift change, three miles of ridge to cover, and one prisoner who kept his eyes fixed on the horizon as if waiting for a debt to be collected. I had been walking this stretch of the high desert for six years, long enough to know that the silence here was not an absence of sound but a heavy, pressing thing that settled into the lungs before the ears...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 2 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen