The Wistful Silence
Act I Maire Kilbride had not intended to return to the house at sixty-three of NineElm Crossing, but the weight of the deed in her pocket was heavier than the rain that slicked the bog roads of Mayo, turning the ancient tracks into a muddy, sucking mirror of the sky. She was thirty-four, a soldier stripped of rank for insubordination, and she carried the ledger with two handwritings in her...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews