The Pale Letter

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2026-08-21 15:46:55 -

The Pale Letter

The rain had not ceased for nine days, a relentless, grey weeping that turned the cobblestones of the village of Oakhaven into slick, dark mirrors reflecting the low, bruised sky. You stand at the threshold of your cottage, the wood of the doorframe damp and cold against your palm, watching the village square where the mud has swallowed the footprints of everyone who has left. They are gone...

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