The Broken Glass River

The howling north wind drove icy pellets of snow against an abandoned earthen kiln outside Linqing City. Inside, a few broken bricks barely propped up a chipped clay pot, where clear water boiled with a few wilted yellow leaves. Liu He’s wife gripped the edge of the stove with her withered hands, her knuckles white with strain. The faint, flickering flames were reflected in her cloudy eyes, while an all-consuming despair lay deeper within.