The Faded River
The candles in the Abbey of St. Jude burn with a steady, pale light, illuminating the dust motes that dance in the still air like the ghosts of the dead. You stand before the stone table, your hands clasped behind your back, watching the baker, Thomas, who sits with his wrists bound in rough rope, his eyes hollow and fixed on a point somewhere in the middle distance. You are Elias, an...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen