The Pale Verdict
The soot was already in my lungs, a gritty, metallic taste that coated the back of my throat and settled into the creases of my skin like a second, darker layer of flesh. I was running, or at least I was moving with the desperate, lurching urgency of a man who knows that the ground beneath his feet is no longer solid, but merely a suggestion of stability that the world is eager to retract. The...
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