The Pale Mist

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 09:01:12 -

The Pale Mist

The fog did not roll in; it breathed. It was a living, grey exhalation that swallowed the cobblestones of the Old Quarter, turning the gas lamps into drowned eyes. I adjusted my collar, the wool scratching against my neck, and watched a shadow detach itself from the alley mouth. It moved with a fluidity that suggested bonelessness, a predator that had forgotten the weight of gravity. "You’re...

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