The Pale Tower

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 09:38:41 -

The Pale Tower

The rain does not fall here; it hovers, a grey suspension that smells of wet wool and old iron. You stand at the edge of the courtyard, your boots sinking into the mud that has turned the manicured grounds of the ancestral estate into a soup of decay. The man before you is already walking away, his back straight, his coat buttoned to the throat against the chill. He does not look back. He...

0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews