The Wistful Ashes
The dust was thick. It coated my tongue. I tasted iron and old bone. I walked. My boots crunched on the gravel. The sky was grey. No sun. No moon. Just a low, humming fog. I was not alone. But no one looked at me. I was a ghost in my own life. Or maybe I was the monster. I didn’t know anymore. I had been walking for days. Or weeks. Time had stopped. The world had stopped. We were in the Zone....
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