The Pale Door

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 19:55:44 -

The Pale Door

I dreamed of the door. It stood in a void of white fog, pale and swollen with age. The wood was oak, darkened by decades of rain and neglect. I reached for the handle. My hand passed through it as if it were smoke. The dream ended in silence. I woke to the gray light of a November morning. The house was cold. I knew it was. The heating system had failed weeks ago. The council had sent a letter....

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