The Pale Exile

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 06:38:24 -

The Pale Exile

The river was low. It lay flat against the mud. A ribbon of gray. It looked tired. I looked at it. I felt tired too. I held the stone. It was in my pocket. It rubbed against my thigh. A cold weight. I had picked it up yesterday. It was smooth. It was white. It was chipped. I walked the bank. My boots squelched. The mud was deep. It pulled at my heels. I did not care. I needed to walk. I needed...

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