The Pale Dance
The lantern is out. You sit in the dark. The house holds its breath. It is a big house. Old stone. Cold air seeps through the floorboards. You are alone. You are the keeper. You are the finder. You are the one who looks. Your hands are shaking. You look at them. They are thin. They are pale. You feel the weight of the silence. It presses on your chest. It is a physical thing. A stone. You...
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