The Pale Path
The loaf of bread weighed exactly four hundred and fifty grams, a weight that felt heavier in your small hands than the iron bar you had once tried to lift during a strength test, and you held it against your chest in the alley behind St. Jude’s as the rain slicked the cobblestones into a mirror of black water. You were twelve years old, and you had not eaten since the previous noon, but the...
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