The Pale Fracture

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 19:32:02 -

The Pale Fracture

The banquet hall smelled of roasted pork and wet wool. It was a thick, cloying scent that sat heavy on the tongue. Margaret sat at the edge of the long table. Her hands were folded in her lap. They were still. Too still. Around her, the men of the Assembly laughed. Their voices were deep and rhythmic. Like the pistons of the great engines outside. The walls were lined with dark wood. The air...

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