Chapter 48 · for subscribers
The stick is good. I broke one over a mortar bench on the ninth day, I had a second put into my hands at my own gate on the eleventh, I have talked about nothing but sticks for six days in front of anybody who would listen — and they heard me. Nobody signs for incense. Nobody signs for fuel either. The dose did not have to be in the stick. It only ever had to be in the room, and a stick needs a bed of coals under it to burn at all.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.