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Chapter IX: The sanctuary
It was the middle of the night. Completely dark: no moon, no stars. Or maybe there were. I should have been more attentive. Fog was everywhere. I felt the chill off it in every bone, and it hurt whenever I moved.
I recognised him from my front door. It fell shut behind me: slowly, like in slow motion. The hinges squeaked, as if they were suffering, because the oil inside changes its viscosity in winter time. The door wasn’t yet closed, when my legs started running. Actually, I didn’t order them to run. I guess, it just happens as a reflex when the eyes detect distress on the horizon.
Do you know what warm blood looks like in the freezing cold, when there's suddenly so much of it? Actually, you should, given your profession. It steams. A bit like manhole covers in winter, and if it’s pitch dark around you it looks like the
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As the moon began to rust Chapter I: Her circumstances
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As the moon began to rust Chapter II: Her burdens
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