The Pale Meridian

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2026-08-20 22:24:55 -

The Pale Meridian

The mud on the wheels of the wagon was a thick, ropy substance, the color of dried blood, clinging to the iron rims with a persistence that suggested it had a will of its own, and as we trundled up the long, steep grade toward the village of Oakhaven, I felt the weight of the silence between Julian and me not as a void, but as a physical pressure, a heavy, woolen blanket wrapped tight around my...

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