The Pale Mist

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2026-08-20 12:22:29 -

The Pale Mist

The bread sat on the wooden table, a loaf of dark, dense rye that had been baked in the hearth before the sun had cleared the ridge, its crust hard as a river stone and its interior steaming with the heavy, yeast-scented breath of life itself, and Thomas sat across from it, his hands resting on the grain-worn surface, his fingers thick and calloused, the knuckles swollen from years of gripping...

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