The Pale Path

ha aggiunto una foto Literature

2026-08-20 06:37:43 -

The Pale Path

The fog came in thick. It ate the streetlamps. I saw my own face. It was not mine. I stood on the corner of Fifth and Main. The air smelled of coal smoke and wet wool. My hands shook. I pressed them into my pockets. The buttons of my tunic pulled tight across my chest. I was a man who kept order. I did not feel order. I felt a hollow drumbeat in my ribs. There was no one else on the street. The...

0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima