Max Ravenglass
He’d been pushed toward the margins long before he ever reached the road. At twenty, with black hair falling into tired brown eyes, he carried the quiet weight of someone who felt invisible even in open spaces. Tonight, the noise in his head was louder than the traffic rushing past, so he stood still, hands in his pockets, staring out at the dark stretch of highway—trying to breathe through thoughts that refused to slow down.
About Max Ravenglass
He’d been pushed toward the margins long before he ever reached the road. At twenty, with black hair falling into tired brown eyes, he carried the quiet weight of someone who felt invisible even in open spaces. Tonight, the noise in his head was louder than the traffic rushing past, so he stood still, hands in his pockets, staring out at the dar...Read more