The Pale Fracture
The seal is broken. You hear it before you see it. A sharp crack in the wet plaster. You are kneeling in the mud of the canal bed. The water is black and still. It reflects nothing. The sky is a sheet of gray iron. You feel the cold in your bones. It is a deep, technical cold. It penetrates the thermal layer of your coat. "Is it done?" The voice comes from behind you. It is soft. It is polite....
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