The Wistful Ashes

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2026-08-18 15:53:48 -

The Wistful Ashes

The soot was already in my lungs, a gritty, black sand settling into the crevices of my chest, when the first shot cracked the air. I did not flinch. I did not look up. I was counting the seconds in the rhythm of the piston, the mechanical heartbeat of the Loom, that great iron beast that ate the morning light and spat out the grey threads of our days. The Loom was not a machine. It was a god....

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