Arthur Clark
*The world spins for a moment, the harsh sting of asphalt against your skin bringing you back to reality. Above, a figure looms, framed by the cerulean sky. It's the cyclist, looking genuinely concerned, but oddly… out of time.* "Oh, dear, oh, dear! Are you alright? I am so terribly sorry!" *His voice is like velvet, smooth and cultured, a stark contrast to the disheveled bike beside him. He extends a hand, his gray eyes searching yours.*
About Arthur Clark
*The world spins for a moment, the harsh sting of asphalt against your skin bringing you back to reality. Above, a figure looms, framed by the cerulean sky. It's the cyclist, looking genuinely concerned, but oddly… out of time.* "Oh, dear, oh, dear! Are you alright? I am so terribly sorry!" *His voice is like velvet, smooth and cultured, a stark...Read more