Cold Iron
Nov 18th, 2025 by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
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Walking to the back of the old house, Samuel noticed the changes since last time he’d been home. There were weeds growing up from the foundation. The chicken coop had probably been empty for more than a year. But none of the of the deterioration moved him. He had no nostalgia for this place. In truth, this was no longer his home.
The smithy was the one part of the farm almost as he remembered. All the tools hanging in just the right place. Except the forge wasn’t burning anymore, the anvil had long grown cold.
Dad was truly gone.
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