The Pale Mist

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 10:43:00 -

The Pale Mist

I woke with the taste of iron on my tongue. The air was thick. It smelled of wet stone and ozone. I was not in my bed. I was not in the world I knew. The ground beneath me was cold. It was packed earth. It felt like the bed of a river that had dried up centuries ago. I looked up. The sky was a bruised purple. It hung low. It pressed against the spires of the city. The city was made of glass and...

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