The Pale Tower

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 04:56:27 -

The Pale Tower

The fog did not roll in; it descended, a heavy, wet wool that strangled the gaslights of Harrowgate until the city was a ghost of itself, visible only by the faint, trembling halo of its own decay. I stood on the bridge, the iron railing cold against my palms, watching the Thames churn below, black and indifferent. We had come here from the other side of the world, my brother and I, fleeing a...

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