The Golden Myth

added blog Literature

2026-08-17 21:47:13 -

The Golden Myth

You’re holding it wrong. My hand trembles. The glass slides. It hits the table. It shatters. Not a clean break. A mess. Splinters of quartz. White dust. It looks like bone. I look at you. You are not looking at me. You are looking at the floor. “Again,” you say. Your voice is flat. Dead. I pick up the shards. My fingers bleed. Thin red lines. I do not wipe them. I hold the pieces. They cut me....

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