When she finally slept, she dreamt of a sick girl with her face, roaming the streets, searching for something. She dreamt of a fierce burning light that hurt to see, and wings made of cogs and copper and steel, and film-covered eyes and patchwork skin, and a strangely familiar boy bathed in tattoos, and a walking corpse that smelled like rotted
(
Read more... )
Comments 1
(The comment has been removed)
Reply
Leave a comment