The Faded Apartment
The wind did not howl so much as it sipped, a thin, cold sound that seeped through the cracks in the window frames of the study, carrying with it the faint, dusty scent of old varnish and decay, a smell that Elias Thorne had tried for three years to scrub from the wood and the air and his own memory, yet it persisted, clinging to the back of his throat like a bitter lozenge that refused to...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews