I look apon a broken house, shards of glass strewn each a fragment of captured torment in a aged structure. Falling apart a shell once fruitfull…
Shards — James M.
16 comments
James M. · 16 comments
He had keys for doors that no longer existed and kept them anyway, sorted by the year the building came down. On Sundays he laid them out on the…
What the Locksmith Knew — Klára S.
11 comments
Klára S. · 11 comments