The Golden Scar

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 17:17:08 -

The Golden Scar

The banquet hall smelled of roasted pork and old wood. I sat at the edge of the long table. My fingers touched the velvet. It was red. Deep, dark, like dried blood. I held the sash. It was thick. Heavy. Worn. The gold thread was frayed at the hem. My father sat across from me. He did not look at me. He looked at the wall. "Eat," he said. I ate. The meat was tough. I chewed. I swallowed. The...

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