The Pale Shadows

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-17 14:49:13 -

The Pale Shadows

The air in the town square smelled of coal dust and wet wool. It was the Festival of the Iron Bell. Everyone was there. The crowd pressed tight against the barricades. I stood at the edge. My hands were still. My heart was not. The bell hung high. It was black iron. It was old. It was the only thing that mattered. The Mayor spoke. His voice was thin. He praised the factory. He praised the...

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