The Pale Path

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2026-08-20 21:25:35 -

The Pale Path

The ink is black. It is deep. It is eternal. You press the nib to the paper. The scratch is a scream. You are in the room. The room is small. The walls are white. The air is still. You are not here. You are in the trench. The mud is cold. The noise is loud. The silence here is worse. It eats you. "Read it," he says. His voice is soft. It is a knife. It cuts the air. "I am reading," you say....

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