The Pale Altar

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 18:02:34 -

The Pale Altar

The frost had not melted. It sat on the windowpane like a skin, thin and white, trapping the cold inside the room. Margaret stood by the glass, her breath fogging the center of the pane. She wiped it away with her thumb. The view was the same. The yard. The dead grass. The old oak tree at the edge of the property. It was a good tree. Or it had been. Now it was just wood and silence. She turned...

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