The Pale Garden

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2026-08-19 01:07:22 -

The Pale Garden

The snow fell in sheets. Thick. White. Silent. It buried the road. It buried the rail. It buried the world. Captain Silas Thorne drove the carriage forward. The horses struggled. They snorted. Steam rose from their nostrils. It mingled with the cold air. It vanished. Inside the cab, it was warm. It was dry. It smelled of leather. It smelled of iron. Silas held the reins. His knuckles were...

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