Letter from the Ironwood
A love letter carved on ironwood bark drifted downstream and arrived the exact morning she decided never to return. Sena stood on the last plank of the floating landing at Lanternreed, her small bundle already tied. The river moved slow and brown beneath her, carrying fallen leaves and the smell of wet clay. Today she would step into the trader’s longboat and never return. The decision had settled in her chest like a stone after the third hard season: her mother’s illness, the […]https://mungan87.wordpress.com/2026/10/16/letter-from-the-ironwood/
