The Weight of Ink

by Rachel Kadish

Knowing when not to speak was a talent that visited Aaron rarely. But as it settled on him now with its feathery grace, he knew to be grateful.

though she turns a corner leaving her office and is shelved overnight in some storage unit for the terminally pedantic, and only materializes again on her return to work the next morning.

a maid held out a hand for Ester’s cloak. As Ester gave it over, her own work-roughened hand brushed the maid’s, and Ester looked up into the blunt fatigue on the maid’s doughy face. Swiftly, before pity could overtake her, Ester turned away. To feel guilt over her own escape would drown her. She’d found a spar of wood to cling to, a thin chance at life; she couldn’t falter at the sight of yet another drowning stranger.