The Pale Banner
The morning light did not break through the clouds so much as it bled into them, a slow, diffuse hemorrhage of pale yellow that turned the grey sky into a bruise. I stood at the edge of the frozen reservoir, my breath hanging in the air like a ghost refusing to dissipate, watching the water beneath the ice shift and groan. It was a sound I had learned to love in the silence of my exile, a deep,...
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