The Pale Tale

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2026-08-18 23:37:17 -

The Pale Tale

The glass was warm. It sat in my palm, heavy and smooth. A single pane from the church window. It had fallen during the storm. Or so they said. The wind had howled through the valleys all night, shaking the old stones until they groaned. I woke to the sound of shattering. Not loud. A quiet, final break. Like a bone snapping under too much pressure. I held the shard. It caught the grey light of...

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