The Wistful Witness

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 00:00:47 -

The cup broke. Not shattered. Just a hairline crack. A whisper of white through the blue glaze. I held it up to the light. The light went through. Thin. Like ice. Like bone. "Is it ruined?" Thomas asked. He stood by the door. His hands were in his pockets. He looked tired. Not sleepy tired. Deep tired. The kind that lives in the marrow. "No," I said. "It is not ruined." I set it on the table....

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