The Pale Bridge

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 01:53:15 -

The Pale Bridge

The iron gate shuddered. Miles gripped the handle. His knuckles were white. The cold bit through his wool gloves. He pulled. The gate did not move. It screamed. A high, thin sound. Like a bird dying. The bridge waited. It was a pale thing. Concrete and steel. It arched over the chasm. It did not change. It did not break. It remained. It was the only constant. The world below was chaos. The...

0 Comments 0 Shares 5 Views 0 Reviews