Short Stories
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The Weight of Stillness
The morning sun traced golden patterns across Theron Clayhand’s workshop floor, illuminating dust motes that danced in air thick with the ghost-scent of yesterday’s kiln firing. He stood in the doorway, coffee cup cooling in his calloused hands, staring at the pottery wheel that sat like an accusation in the corner—silent, waiting, judging the fact Continue reading
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What the Woods Know
The afternoon sun filtered through the ornate glass windows of his brother’s dining room, casting prismatic patterns across the polished mahogany table that could have seated twelve with room to spare. Garrett Ashwood traced his calloused finger along the table’s edge, feeling the perfect smoothness of wood that had never known actual use, that existed Continue reading
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The Art of Adjacency
The morning sun barely penetrated the narrow gap between the tenement buildings of Lumen Vale’s Lower Reach, but Marten Copperhand had learned to read time by the quality of shadows rather than the presence of light. The slice of amber that crept across his workbench told him it was past dawn, that his neighbor Elara Continue reading
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A Feast In Motion
What could you try for the first time? The walking mountain’s rhythm had taken Isadora three days to internalize—the subtle sway as Grandfather Ironheart’s stone limbs carried entire civilizations across terrain that shifted from grassland to forest to river valley with the patient inevitability of geological time. Now, standing at the railing of the communal Continue reading
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Thirty Years Walking
When was the first time you really felt like a grown up (if ever)? The morning of his thirtieth birthday arrived without fanfare, marked only by the familiar weight of consciousness returning as dawn light filtered through the threadbare curtains of his rented room. Rowan Ashfield lay still, watching dust motes dance in the amber Continue reading
Chadwick Rye 