The Pale Altar

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2026-08-22 16:44:30 -

The Pale Altar

The bottle sat in my palm, a small, opaque cylinder of plastic that had once held the promise of health for the poor, now holding nothing but a fine, white powder that looked less like medicine and more like the dust of a demolished church. I had held it for three days, turning it over and over until the label wore thin, a physical object that anchored me to a reality I was rapidly losing. The...

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