The Pale Path

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2026-08-20 05:23:38 -

The Pale Path

The rain has not stopped. It falls in thin, cold needles against the glass of the carriage. You sit in the corner, knees drawn up, watching the landscape blur into a smear of gray mud and black timber. The engine coughs. The rhythm is broken. You are not supposed to be here. You are supposed to be safe, inside, with the fire. But the fire did not feel like home. It felt like a cage. So you took...

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