“It was never you,” she sneered at me. “You were a vessel, a conduit. There haven’t been seers for thousands of years. Get over yourself and move on.”
desert moon
visions of death
on the windshield
Dave Read
“It was never you,” she sneered at me. “You were a vessel, a conduit. There haven’t been seers for thousands of years. Get over yourself and move on.”
desert moon
visions of death
on the windshield
Dave Read
