The Pale Path

bir ses eklendi Literature

2026-08-19 06:22:14 -

The Pale Path

The bread was white. It sat on the counter. It was whole. I cut it. The knife slipped. The loaf split. Not in half. In three. Uneven pieces. Crumbly. Dry. I looked at the pieces. They were not food. They were evidence. My hands shook. I put them back. The shop was quiet. Dust motes danced in the light. From the window. The light was thin. Pale. Like the skin of a dead man. I am a baker. I have...

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