The Pale Bridge

bir ses eklendi Literature

2026-08-20 06:01:09 -

The Pale Bridge

The mist clings to your throat. It tastes of iron and old blood. You are walking. You have always been walking. The path is narrow, cut into the side of a gray cliff. Below, the sea chews the rocks. Above, the sky is a bruise that will not heal. You wear armor. It is not steel. It is skin. It is the memory of every blow you have taken. You feel them now. A dull throb in the ribs. A sharp sting...

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