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The way my mother tells it, the mist rose from the ground every morning, creeping through cracks in the cobblestones. That was before we left the city; before my father burned it down.
This post is loosely connected to the Jade Dragon series. I’ve placed it after the previous installment, but it doesn’t really need to fall there. If you haven’t read any other Jade Dragon posts, I would love for you to check it out. Constructive criticism is always much appreciated. (Edited 3/17 10:00 PM – check it out – there’s a new installment after this one! Unprompted, so if you normally come here from Trifecta, you won’t see this one in the links next week.)
This post was written in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge weekend Trifextra prompt:
This weekend we’re asking for exactly 33 words inspired by the following photo.