The Golden Song
Act I Reza Ebrahimi sat in the study at forty-seven of Corvid Lane, the hum vibrating in his teeth like a plucked string. He was thirty-two, a bonded scribe for the new priesthood, and he needed to finish his thesis on local folklore before the autumn deadline. The town believed his work was a curse, a theft of their souls, but Reza told himself it was only tinnitus, a side effect of the dry...
0 Σχόλια 0 Μοιράστηκε 2 Views 0 Προεπισκόπηση