Mara—the spirit of the night, the weaver of darkened dreams—pressed upon my chest as sleep held me captive. My memory. In the haze of a dream, I saw those I loved, their faces bathed in an otherworldly glow. The nightmare was not the shadows nor the fear they whispered, but the cruel certainty of waking—of losing them to the morning light
★ 5
HD
★ 7.3
HD
★ 7.5
HD
HD
HD
★ 1
HD
★ 10
HD
★ 8
HD
HD