The Pale Mist

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2026-08-21 15:37:21 -

The Pale Mist

You are alone. The room smells of stale coffee and wet wool. Rain hammers the windowpane. It is a small house. The walls are thin. You can hear the wind outside. It sounds like a scream. You sit in the chair. Your hands are still. They have been still for hours. They shake now. You stop them. You force them flat on the table. The clock ticks. Tick. Tick. Tick. It counts the seconds. It counts...

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