What Remains, the Echoes of a Flute Song
ShortStory 4,850 words Recommended by 2 award/anthology sources
"The flutist peered over the ridge ahead of them. Wreathed in the sheerest cloth of fog, a city rotted. It was not a big city, maybe a town, maybe a village. The flutist was not of that age of plenty where plentiful things had names and could be easily recognized by all. They were unaccustomed to such things."
Content warnings 2
death-of-a-loved-onesuicide
Quasar links out; the story lives on Clarkesworld, where the author gets the click.