The Pale Verdict
The bread was not quite right. It was a shade too pale, the crumb tight and resistant, lacking the airy, golden promise of the loaves that had once defined the household’s rhythm. Elias stood in the center of the kitchen, a space that had once echoed with the hum of industry and the smell of yeast, now silent save for the tick of a clock that seemed to measure the slow decay of their resources....
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews