The Distant Legend
The debt was three hundred and twelve pounds, a figure that sat in the magistrate’s ledger like a stone in my chest, heavy and cold and unyielding. I counted the threads on the loom, one by one, each taut white line a small failure, a small debt I could not yet pay, as the damp of the cellar rose through the flagstones and into the soles of my boots. The air smelled of wet wool and old iron, a...
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