The Pale Altar

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 22:20:44 -

The Pale Altar

The rain did not fall. It hung. A thick, grey curtain of industrial smog and wet ash, suspended in the air like a held breath. I left the dock at dawn. My boots made no sound on the slick, black iron. I am a detective. Or I was. Now I am a witness to the end of the world. Or perhaps just the end of my mind. It is hard to tell. The line is thin. Thinner than the smoke. I carried the case. It was...

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