The Faded Alibi

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2026-08-19 20:52:41 -

The Faded Alibi

The kiln cracked on a Tuesday. Not broke. Cracked. A hairline fracture, thin as a vein, running from the top vent down to the base. I saw it. I knew what it meant. We all knew. It was the end. I am a maker of things. Clay and fire. I have done this for forty years. My hands are stiff. My knees ache when it rains. But the work is in the blood. You cannot wash it out. The kiln is the heart of the...

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