The Pale Path

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2026-08-20 18:17:47 -

The Pale Path

The coat was red. Not a bright red, not a festive red. It was the color of a bruise just before it heals, a deep, arterial crimson that seemed to drink the light around it. I wore it every day. It was the only thing I owned that was not issued by the State, not stamped with a serial number, not weighed against a quota. It was mine. Or so I told myself. I walked the Gray City. The streets were...

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