The Distant Ghost
The champagne was cold. I drank it anyway. The bubbles stung my tongue. Sharp. Alive. Around me, the ballroom hummed. Violins. Laughter. The clink of crystal. I stood by the window. The glass fogged under my breath. Behind me, the party roared. I watched a mirror. My reflection stared back. He wore the uniform. The dress uniform. Epaulets. Medals. The gold braid on my collar caught the light....
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