The Wistful Ashes

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2026-08-22 05:56:36 -

The Wistful Ashes

The air in the mill town tasted of sulfur and wet wool. It hung heavy in the lungs. A thick, yellow fog rolled in from the river. It swallowed the cobblestones. It erased the edges of the houses. Margaret stood at the window. Her breath fogged the glass. She wiped it away. The world outside was still there. But it was softer. Blurred. She was not human. Not anymore. The change had come slowly....

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