The Pale Mist

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 05:05:22 -

The Pale Mist

The wind cut through the wool. It bit. It scraped. It sought the gaps in the collar. Thomas felt the cold in his teeth. It was a sharp, metallic taste. Blood. Perhaps he had bitten his lip. Perhaps the cold did it. He did not know. He only knew the pain. They walked. The path was narrow. A ribbon of gray mud. The fog swallowed the world. It ate the trees. It ate the sky. It ate the distance....

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