Sure! I’d be happy to put together a write‑up for you, but I want to make sure I cover exactly what you’re looking for.
One autumn, a young man named Elias returned to the village, his eyes dull with the gray soot of the city. He had failed in his apprenticeship and felt like a hollow shell. He sat at Maza’s table, staring at the steam rising from his bowl. "It tastes like... nothing," Elias whispered, crestfallen. auntmaza