Kafka

Short Story about a Blackbird.

Mask

The top of his head was covered with dust. He hadn't moved for a while. Looking down at his reflection for many days, perhaps an eternity, he appeared tiny to himself and shimmering with warm gold light. His face, usually worn as a disguise or to amuse or frighten others, was now contorted by emotion and twisted out of shape.

Milostate

MD3 Design