The Pale Path

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 14:13:43 -

The Pale Path

The perimeter fence was not a wall. It was a suggestion, a thin line of barbed wire that the wind had long since strung with tangles of dead ivy and rust. I stood at the northern gate, my boots sinking into the loam that had turned to soup after three days of rain. The air smelled of wet stone and rotting leaves, a scent that clung to the back of the throat like a bad taste. I checked the...

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