The Weaver of Lost Feelings
The rain tasted like static. Old Man Tiber, they called him, though nobody knew if he *was* an old man anymore, or just a construct wearing the skin of one. His shop, a cubbyhole wedged between a noodle stall and…
weaving
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Whispering Cloth
The year was 1765. In the bustling town of York, nestled among cobblestone streets and thatched-roof cottages, stood a humble weaving shop known for its exquisite silks. Owned by Master Weaver Thomas Bennett, this little haven bore witness to an…