The Pale Dance

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2026-08-17 11:30:09 -

The Pale Dance

The sirens start before the glass breaks. You hear it first. A high, thin wail that drills into the base of your skull. It is the sound of the city screaming. You are standing in the kitchen. Your hands are wet. You are washing a teacup. The porcelain is warm. It is your wife’s cup. The blue rim is chipped. You know the chip. You have known it for twenty years. The wail stops. Silence follows....

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