The Wistful Voyage
Chapter One The carts rattled over the cobblestones of the mountain town, their wheels grinding against the stone in the pre-dawn dark, a sound that had not changed in three generations of feuds. In the cramped counting room of the merchant house, Gheorghe Ionescu sat before a table of wilting chrysanthemums, his hands trembling as he held a deed to the property. He was fifty-four, an archivist...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews