A Keystone for Later

Old Ottilie Marrow chiselled a keystone for the Long Dawn’s nave, a stone set for a roof no living hand will see finished. Her chisel rang once against the granite as the Foundry lamps caught their measure beyond the hill. She blew the dust away, chalked the line, and cut the year beneath it for whoever would one day stand under the arch and wonder who had dug the first stone.