The Distant Summer
The seal sat in Elias’s palm, cold and heavy as a stone pulled from a riverbed. It was a square of brass, worn smooth by decades of thumb and forefinger, the impression of his family’s crest worn thin but still legible if the light hit it right. He turned it over, checking the underside for any mark that might prove its authenticity, though he knew there was none. The metal was just metal. What...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima