The Pale Tower

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 15:15:07 -

The Pale Tower

The rain against the leaded glass of the infirmary window sounds like a thousand small fingers tapping, asking to be let in, or perhaps just to be remembered. You sit in the high-backed chair by the cold hearth, your hands resting on your lap, folded so tightly that the knuckles have gone white and swollen. The air in this wing of St. Jude’s is thick with the scent of boiled linseed oil, damp...

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