The Pale Banner

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 06:20:04 -

The Pale Banner

The iron gate was cold against my palms. I had been holding it for an hour. My fingers were white, the knuckles swollen like bread dough left too long in the heat. I was not waiting for the gate to open. I was waiting for myself to decide if I was still the man who had locked it from the inside. The courtyard was paved in slate, black and slick with the morning mist. In the center stood the...

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