The Pale Mist
The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a suspended gray mist that swallowed the town of Oakhaven whole. Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the reservoir, his hands trembling not from the cold, but from the sheer, crushing weight of the silence that had settled over his life. He was a man of equations, a structural engineer who had spent thirty years calculating the tensile strength...
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