The Pale Tower

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 23:50:51 -

The Pale Tower

The rain had not stopped for three days. It drummed against the slate roof of the orphanage with a rhythm that felt less like weather and more like a countdown. I sat on the edge of my bed in the dormitory, my knees drawn up to my chest, holding the scarf. It was grey wool, thick and heavy, smelling of damp wool and the faint, lingering scent of cedar that clung to everything in that house. It...

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