The Pale Circus
The grey in Tunis did not lift; it settled into the marrow of the white stone houses like a debt that could not be called in. The Ferryman’s Ledger, October the fourteenth The rain had been falling for three days, a steady, cold sheet that turned the prairie dog town landscape into a blur of mud and old grass. I am writing this by the light of a single tallow candle, the wax dripping onto the...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima