beyond the wardrobe. by Quecksilver_Eyes

England is a cold, wet, foggy thing after Narnia’s blooming springs, trembling with a war none of them can reach. In the mornings, their mother snatches the papers from Peter, from Edmund, from Susan, with a smile and shaking hands, as if that could keep them safe, somehow, in this kettle barely boiling over that London has become.Quecksilver_Eyes's story, read aloud (8 min.)