The Last Lantern in Ashford

 

 

 

I wrapped my woolen cloak tighter around me, bracing against the biting wind that howled through the streets of Ashford like a chorus of restless spirits. Fifty years had passed since the stars last twinkled above our town, and the gray fog that rolled in each night had become a constant reminder of our isolation. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and decay, and the flickering candles that lit the windows of our homes cast eerie shadows on the walls.

 As I walked home from the local tavern, where I had spent the evening listening to tales of the past, my eyes instinctively sought out the old iron lantern that hung outside the abandoned clockmaker's shop. It was a beacon of hope, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still a spark of life to be found. The lantern's flame danced and swayed in the wind, casting a warm glow over the deserted street. I had grown accustomed to its gentle light, and the sense of comfort it brought me as I navigated the treacherous alleys of Ashford.Read More Download free