The Pale Shadows

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2026-08-18 07:57:32 -

The Pale Shadows

The door to the cellar was heavy. It smelled of damp stone and old iron. I pulled it open. The hinges screamed. My father stood in the dark. He did not turn around. He held a bowl. It was full of mud. Thick, black, wet mud. He was stirring it. The spoon clinked against the ceramic. A soft, rhythmic sound. Tick. Tick. Tick. "Are you here?" I asked. My voice sounded thin. It echoed off the...

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