The Pale Meridian

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2026-08-21 01:56:14 -

The Pale Meridian

The bread was stale. You knew it before you broke the crust. The air in the pantry was thick with the smell of dust and old flour, a dry, choking scent that clung to the back of your throat. You held the loaf in your hands, turning it over, pressing the heel against your thumb. It crumbled. It was no longer food. It was only debris. You set it on the counter. The room was silent except for the...

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