As the last merlons fall from my last tall tower, I remember I remember the first cold shock of hammer, the fractured sense of loss that preceded self. As flames reach the last timbers of my last sub-dungeon, I remember the first bite of axe, the sharp tongue of plane.

House of Hope
Metaphorosis: a collection of stories
Published 22-Jun-2013

About the story: Stone and timber make a house, and much, much more.

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