The Faded Portrait
The hammer fell. It hit the glass. My hand was steady. I held the handle. The crystal shattered. Blue light died. I looked down. At my hand. At the shards. At the frame. Gold leaf peeled. Like skin. I was in the hall. High ceiling. Stone dust. Air thick. I am Elias. I am not here. I am not who I was. They say I am a thief. They say I am a ghost. I am a man. With a broken face. No. With a broken...
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