The Pale Fracture

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2026-08-21 10:03:23 -

The Pale Fracture

The lichen is dying. You watch it from the high window. It peels off the stone in pale, dry flakes. Like skin. Like ash. You do not touch it. You only look. The room is cold. The air smells of damp wool and old paper. You are small. You are still. The clock ticks. One second. Two seconds. The lichen falls. It lands on the sill. It does not move. You are not allowed to speak. The Warden sits...

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