The Faded Dust

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 07:47:39 -

The Faded Dust

The fog rolled in thick and wet, smelling of coal smoke and rotting kelp. I stood at the edge of the pier, watching the water turn black. My hands were stiff. My bones ached with a deep, hollow cold that no coat could fix. I was not a man. I had not been a man for a long time. I was something else. Something made of salt and silence and the weight of the years. I looked at my hands. They were...

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