Masked Relics

Charcoal grit clings to the hollowed eyes of discarded facial prosthetics buried beneath loose floorboards. These clay visages rest near the vendor’s blackened iron ledger, their features worn smooth by years of shifting shadows and neglect. As light crawls across the pitted copper surfaces, the distinction between a carved mask and a living face begins to blur into nothingness. A quiet stillness settles over the workshop, leaving only the silent weight of these empty shells.