The Wistful Ashes

bir ses eklendi Literature

2026-08-25 01:05:03 -

The Wistful Ashes

"You’re late, Amina." The foreman’s voice was flat, stripped of any warmth that might have belonged to a man who had seen the same dust for forty years. I stood in the doorway of the workshop loft, my hands still black with the charcoal I had scraped from the ruins of the central oak. The smell of burning clung to my clothes, a dry, acrid ghost that no amount of scrubbing could wash away. Below...

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