The Pale Tale

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2026-08-20 16:44:11 -

The Pale Tale

The rain hit the cobblestones. It hissed. Steam rose from the grates. Thick. White. Smelling of coal and wet wool. Silas stood by the window. The glass fogged. He wiped it with his sleeve. The city blurred outside. Then it sharpened. The gas lamps flickered. Orange. Dim. He looked at the mirror. His face looked back. Older. Tired. The hair was grey. All of it. It had happened fast. Last year it...

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