The Pale Meridian

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2026-08-20 22:45:36 -

The Pale Meridian

The rain does not fall so much as it is forced through the upper air, a grey, ceaseless drumming against the leaded panes of the observatory tower. You stand at the meridian line, that pale strip of polished brass inlaid into the stone floor, and you hold the astrolabe with a grip that has turned your knuckles white. The instrument is cold, heavier than it should be, its brass plates worn...

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