She entered barefoot. Sat beside the hearth.
“You’ve served me a thousand times.”
“Then I must’ve forgotten most of them.”
“You never forget. You only leave room.”
I poured her Ashbark Liqueur. It burns twice: once on the tongue, once behind the eyes.
“The logs remember,” she whispered. “Even when you don’t.”
She leaned closer to the flame.44Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡv7x4LpB5IK
It flickered toward her.44Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5FjLqDiTvE
When she left, the fire was smaller.
