W. C. Bamberger

The Mill yazarı
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It strained, thrashed, screamed. Rose. Crust shattered. The center of the earth slowly raised a crystal mill. The blades rang out: We have come to bring new bread to the earth. For thousands of years the depths have harbored us. Generations have pressed down upon us. Every one of our veins, even the smallest, is compressed. We are the clear cold, which no longer reduces the sun, moon, and stars. You will see one another. The graveyards of your dead eyes will open. You will see one another. You will meet one another again. A red unsuspected sun rose. Winds lifted the white blades. The stones ground the bread as quietly as moonlight. Elves carried the heavenly flour. Those into whose eye a grain flew, saw.
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