The Pale Mist

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 18:28:48 -

The Pale Mist

The ink was bleeding again, forming a mouth that did not belong to the letter. I wiped my sleeve across the parchment, a heavy, sodden cloth that smelled of oak gall and old fear, but the dark stain only spread, thickening into a grotesque parody of my own weeping face. The scriptorium was silent save for the scratch of Brother Thomas’s quill in the next alcove, a dry, rhythmic sound that...

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