The Pale Meridian

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2026-08-20 16:23:47 -

The Pale Meridian

The fever had not broken, nor had the silence, which hung over the house at the edge of the moor like a thick, wet wool blanket, suffocating the breath of the wind and the cry of the gulls in equal measure. Thomas sat in the corner of the attic, his knees drawn up to his chest, holding the small, cold hand of his brother, Julian, who lay on the straw pallet with the pale, translucent skin of a...

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