The Pale Exile

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 12:09:57 -

The Pale Exile

The door is open. You stand in the hallway. The house is quiet. Too quiet. The dust motes dance in the beam of afternoon sun. They do not dance. They drift. Slowly. Aiming for nothing. You hold the key in your hand. It is cold. It has always been cold. You are a stranger here. You are the master. You are the ghost. Your father is in the chair. He does not look up. His hands rest on his knees....

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