Stone Witness
The stall owner extended a hammer and chisel, their metal surfaces softened by years of use. Tapping the ceramic produced a tremor in your hand before any audible ring, vibrations traveling up your arm as small pieces flaked away. Beneath the removed glaze appeared delicate striations—not deliberate designs but the faint record of prior heatings, subtle ghosts held within the material’s structure. Cool dust settled on your skin, each particle clinging like a trace of moments passed; the clay seemed to resist fully yielding its history, revealing only fragments at a time.