The Wistful Silence
The document was a single sheet of heavy, cream-colored paper, stained with the damp of the cellar where it had been kept. Elias Thorne held it under the guttering light of a tallow candle, his fingers trembling not from the cold, but from the weight of the ink. It was a bill for the funeral of his father, a man who had died owing more than he had earned in forty years of honest, backbreaking...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews