The Wistful Witness
The shattering of the great porcelain basin in the town square did not make a sound that the ears could fully comprehend, for it was a silence so violent and absolute that it swallowed the morning air whole, leaving only the trembling dust of the kiln and the stunned, open mouths of the crowd who had gathered to watch the Mayor’s ceremonial washing of the new year’s coin. It was a vessel of...
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