The Faded Dust

bir ses eklendi Literature

2026-08-20 13:46:46 -

The Faded Dust

The candle burned low. The wax pooled. It was cold in the cellar. I held the jar. It was heavy. It was warm. I am not what you think. I am not human. I have been here for a long time. The walls are stone. They are old. They are wet. I wait. I was born in the smoke. Or so they say. I have no mother. I have no father. I have only the clay. And the fire. I am a spirit of the hearth. I am the...

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