The Pale Mist

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2026-08-19 18:59:10 -

The Pale Mist

The frost had not yet melted on the stones of the churchyard, but it was thinning, revealing the dark, damp earth beneath. It was a Tuesday, or perhaps a Wednesday, for time in the village of Oakhaven moved with the sluggish, viscous quality of sap in a winter tree. The air smelled of wet wool and woodsmoke, and the mist that clung to the valley floor was not merely weather; it was a living...

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