The Pale Tower

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2026-08-24 06:52:00 -

The Pale Tower

The trowel bit into the wet mix, a sharp, metallic sound that echoed off the rough-hewn limestone, and you felt the weight of the bucket in your hands, heavy with the cold, damp earth of Oakhaven, as the final notice from the bank lay unopened in your shirt pocket, its edges softening against your hip like a bruise. You were forty-two, your knuckles swollen and cracked from the winter chill,...

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