The Pale Shadows
The fog did not lift so much as it thickened, a dense, wet wool that pressed against the glass of the command tower until the world outside ceased to be a place and became merely a series of blurred, grey silhouettes that moved with a slow, predatory grace, I lay awake in the narrow cot, the springs groaning under the weight of my own exhausted flesh, and I watched the shadows dance on the...
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