The Pale Bridge

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2026-08-19 08:12:22 -

The Pale Bridge

The air in the hall tasted of copper and stale champagne, a metallic tang that coated the back of the tongue and refused to wash away, settling into the crevices of the skin like a fine, invisible dust. It was the annual gala for the preservation of the Old Mill District, a night where the town of Oakhaven gathered to celebrate a history that was, in reality, crumbling into dust beneath the...

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