Decades slipped through his fingertips like grains of rice. What was it like to live with the possibility of a grand finale. The one that he would never have and so be forced to dance eternally, damned to existence without measure.
Decades slipped through his fingertips like grains of rice. What was it like to live with the possibility of a grand finale. The one that he would never have and so be forced to dance eternally, damned to existence without measure.