The Pale Path

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 04:12:34 -

The Pale Path

The train rattled. The wheels sang a low, grinding song against the iron tracks. It was a sound that lived in my bones. I watched the fields scroll by. Green turned to gold. Gold turned to brown. The land was dying. Or perhaps it was just changing. I could not tell. I held my hand against the cold glass. My knuckles were white. My fingernails were bitten to the quick. They were raw. They bled....

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