Carlos del Puente
But from here, the death of the road could be seen like lead. By Carlos del Puente
viernes, noviembre 01, 2024 Emerging from the shadowy embrace of the woodland, a quaint cottage beckoned, its ivy-clad walls casting hypnotic patterns against the setting sun. A gentle hint of smoke curled from the chimney, suggesting a cozy hearth warmed by the day's last embers. Solitude blanketed the landscape as nature's symphony played one final melody, silhouetting the world in hues of twilight. The journey had been...
