The Pale Tale

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2026-08-19 07:58:47 -

The Pale Tale

The stone house stood. It stood against the wind. It stood against the rain. It stood while I was gone. I returned to find it unchanged. The mortar was the same. The windows were the same. But the air inside was different. It tasted of copper. It tasted of old blood. I am a builder. My hands know stone. My hands know weight. But they do not know this silence. My name is Thomas. I built this...

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