The Pale Fracture

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2026-08-17 23:29:46 -

The Pale Fracture

The bus smelled of wet wool and the metallic tang of ozone, a scent that clung to my clothes long after I had stepped off the curb in the gray rain of late autumn, and I stood there on the platform with my hands deep in the pockets of my coat, watching the rear lights of the vehicle dissolve into the fog until they were nothing more than two faint red eyes blinking in the dark before vanishing...

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