The Pale Bridge

added blog Literature

2026-08-17 11:14:01 -

The Pale Bridge

The wind in the highlands did not blow so much as it exhaled, a long, cold breath that carried the scent of wet wool and rotting peat. I walked with a heavy step, my boots sinking into the mud that clung to the earth like a jealous lover, refusing to release me. It was the year of the great silence, a time when the village of Dunmore stood hushed under a sky the color of bruised iron, and the...

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