The Ironsmith's Mandate
Even small gestures like Miss Salve’s smile would be inflated, such is how a small town generates spectacles when next to nothing happens most of the time.
I close my eyes and rest for a while.
***
I heard Jaric’s laughter as he made his way to the waiting room. He walked in like he was still looking for trouble: school shirt caked with dust, brown flecks of drying blood, an improvised sling over one arm, and the widest smile a semifinal loser could ever sport.
“Sorry, Max,” he began, his smile still on his face. “Didn’t quite get the finish or our dream match… still made him work for it, though!”
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