The Pale Mist

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2026-08-20 10:11:12 -

The Pale Mist

The rain had been falling for three days, a thin, persistent sheet that turned the world outside the window into a gray smear of wet asphalt and dying leaves. Inside the apartment, the air was still and stale, smelling of old paper and the faint, metallic tang of rust. I sat at the heavy oak desk, my hands wrapped around a mug of tea that had gone cold an hour ago, watching the condensation run...

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