The Pale Mist

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2026-08-23 11:47:13 -

The Pale Mist

The ledger had fourteen entries left in the column for the Ashwood Ridge, a tally that meant fourteen more hours of walking before the ink dried and the contract was fulfilled. I stood at the precipice, my fingers raw from gripping the brass casing of the theodolite, the metal slick with the damp that seeped up from the earth. The mist was not a weather event; it was a wall, a dense, white...

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