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.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMoS2UKDb2B
It flickered toward her.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡolW8tO1daA
When she left, the fire was smaller.
