The Pale Bridge

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 22:53:21 -

The Pale Bridge

You are standing at the edge of the platform. The rain is cold. It cuts through your coat. You look down at your hands. They are shaking. Not from cold. From fear. You are leaving. You are leaving her. You are leaving the life. You are leaving the station. The train is here. It hisses. Steam rises. It smells of oil and wet iron. The conductor is a man named Silas. He is old. His face is a map...

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