Humor
The Cinder’s Weight
The hearth has stopped its singing.white-ribbed and glowing with a soft, pulsing ache. I am watching the last flame— a tiny, blue-tongued ghost licking the underside of a charred knot. It is fragile, a translucent ribbon fraying against the weight of the coming dark. There is a specific silence that lives here For hours, it was a roar of gold and defiance, consuming the dry cedar of our history, the splinters of every word we ever threw into the heat to keep the room alive. But the wood is spent now. The logs have collapsed into a skeletal geography,
By Awa Nyassi29 days ago in Fiction
Some Assembly Required
“Well, that was dramatic,” he thought. Here he was, in the middle of a winter wonderland with very little understanding of the language of this country in a car that just failed him as the day turned to night. Michael had been in the country for just under a week and had met all of his contacts except one, and he had been on his way to speak to the last one that very afternoon. He had noted how quickly the darkness settled after 4 pm, but he thought that he would have made it. Michael also thought that the car borrowed from the rental agency would also last. There had been no sign of damage or loss of power. To put it simply, he had run out of gas and was now wondering what to do next.
By Kendall Defoe about a month ago in Fiction
