The Wistful Ashes

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-22 09:32:40 -

The Wistful Ashes

The banquet hall smells of burnt sugar and ozone. You are sitting at the head of the table, but the chair is too high. Your feet dangle, hovering inches above the polished oak floor. You are the Master. You are the Keeper. You are the one who stitches the seams of the world shut with thread made of silence. The guests are here. They sit in rows, their faces pale and smooth, like uncooked dough....

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