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“I looked at the discoloured foxglove painting on the edge of the table. The outer trumpets were already chipped and faded, the lower bit of the stems rubbed off entirely. Within a few years, it would be gone- leaving no mark that it had ever been there. That I'd ever been there.” — Sarah J. Maas
I looked at the discoloured foxglove painting on the edge of the table. The outer trumpets were already chipped and faded, the lower bit of the stems rubbed off entirely. Within a few years, it would be gone- leaving no mark that it had ever been there. That I'd ever been there.