The Pale Tale

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-20 23:23:02 -

The Pale Tale

You are late. I heard it before I saw him. The voice came from the mist. It was low. It was rough. Like gravel under a shoe. I stopped walking. My feet were bare. The ground was cold. It was wet with dew. Or maybe blood. I could not tell. The fog here was thick. It tasted of iron. It tasted of old things. "Where are you?" I asked. My voice was small. It did not echo. The fog swallowed it. I...

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