The Pale Letter
The road is red. It is wet with rain and rust. You walk. Your feet are bare. The mud sucks at your heels. It is a cold walk. The air bites. You hold the bundle tight against your chest. It is heavy. It is warm. It pulses. You are going home. Home is far. Home is near. The house stands on the hill. It is old. The stones are gray. The windows are dark. You have been away for a long time. Or a...
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