The Pale Letter

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2026-08-18 07:06:16 -

The Pale Letter

The fire took the roof first. Then the beams. Then the air. You stood in the yard. Mud sucked at your boots. The heat was a wall. A solid, red wall pressing against your lungs. Holloway ran past. His face was black. Smoke clung to his hair. "Get inside!" he screamed. His voice was gone. Just a rasp. "The mill is gone. The ledgers are gone." You did not move. You looked at the sky. It was white....

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