The Distant Cartograph
The coat was red. It hung in the window. Rain slicked the glass. I watched it sway. A ghost in the frame. My name is Elara. I live in Harrowgate. The town smells of coal. And wet wool. And fear. The mill closes at dusk. The whistle screams. It tears the sky. I return to the house. The house is cold. The fire is out. I strike a match. The flame is small. It trembles. Like me. My husband, Silas,...
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