The Pale Mist
The porcelain cup sat on the table. It was white. It was thin. It was cold. Elias held it. His fingers were pale. He did not drink. He looked at the water. It was still. He was in the kitchen. The room was small. The light was gray. Outside, snow fell. It fell softly. It covered the town. The town was quiet. The town was dead. Elias was alive. He was tired. He was hungry. He did not eat. He...
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