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.54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQUawEo1Kf9
It flickered toward her.54Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhTk9yYY2nu
When she left, the fire was smaller.
