The Wistful Silence
Chapter One Taro Yoshida stood in the intake hall, his left hand trembling violently as he processed the refugee, the cold of the room seeping into the marrow of his bones. The sterile air tasted of dust and old paper, a dryness that cracked his lips, while the black-soil plain outside the window stretched to a horizon that seemed to have no end. His severed left hand, reattached by...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews