The Pale Altar

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 20:19:03 -

The Pale Altar

The rain hit the slate roof like a drum roll. It was a cold, industrial drum. The city hummed beneath the eaves. A low, mechanical thrum. Elias stood in the doorway. His uniform was wet. The wool soaked through. It clung to his ribs. He held his hands at his sides. They were empty. Or so he thought. He looked down. His left hand was clenched. A fist. Inside the fist, something white. Something...

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