The Pale Exile

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 23:44:21 -

The Pale Exile

The mud sucked at my boots. It was thick. Red. Like dried blood mixed with clay. I walked. My legs burned. The pain was a dull, steady throb in the calf. It never stopped. I am a soldier. Or I was. The uniform is gone. The rank is gone. What remains is the weight. The weight in my hands. I hold the radio. It is old. The plastic is cracked. The screen is dead. But I hold it. I hold it like a...

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