The Distant Ghost

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 00:56:51 -

The Distant Ghost

The soup was cold. It sat in the tin cup, a gray sludge of turnip and bone broth, and I stared at it as if it were a secret. "You're not going to eat," said Silas. He didn't look up from the map he was tracing with a charcoal stick. The charcoal was black dust that coated his fingers, staining the veins of his hands like dark rivers. "It tastes like rust," I said. My voice was small. It always...

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