The Wistful Witness

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 10:21:49 -

The bread did not rise. It sat in the clay bowl like a lump of gray clay, heavy and cold, refusing to expand into the soft, breathing thing that was supposed to feed the house. Margaret Holloway stared at it, her hands still dusted with flour, the white powder settling into the creases of her palms like a fine, premature snow. She had followed the recipe. She had measured the yeast, the water,...

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