The Ladle and the Fire

You can sip the broth, but never really taste the burn that lingers on the pot’s edges. It holds the stories of everything it devoured — what lingered too long, what wandered too close. They say wisdom grows with time, but what good are minutes piled like pennies in a jar, if you’ve never invested a single one in something that could leave a mark? Take the ladle, scrape the bottom. Embrace the bitterness.