The Sky Was A Cold Iron-grey, Like The Underside Of A Shield. A Sharp Breeze Lifted The Hems Of Skirts And Rattled The Leaves On The Immature Trees; A Spiteful, Chill Wind That Sought Out Your Weakest Places, The Nape Of Your Neck And Your Knees, And Which Denied You The Comfort Of Dreaming, Of Retreating A Little From Reality.
Please Wait....
Translating....
Translating....
The Sky Was A Cold Iron-grey, Like
J. K. Rowling
The Sky Was A Cold Iron-grey, Like The Underside Of A Shield. A Sharp Breeze Lifted The Hems Of Skirts And Rattled The Leaves On The Immature Trees; A Spiteful, Chill Wind That Sought Out Your Weakest Places, The Nape Of Your Neck And Your Knees, And Which Denied You The Comfort Of Dreaming, Of Retreating A Little From Reality.
Views: 4
