The Distant Threshold

ha aggiunto una foto Literature

2026-08-17 14:07:15 -

The soup was cold. It sat in a ceramic bowl that had been chipped at the rim years ago, the glaze flaking off like dry skin. I held the spoon, but I did not eat. I watched the surface, the congealing fats forming a gray skin over the tomato base. It was a dish of sustenance, a thing meant to heal, yet it looked like a wound that had stopped bleeding. I am a junior actuary for a mid-sized...

0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima