The Pale Circus

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2026-08-18 14:53:19 -

The Pale Circus

The kitchen was silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the rhythmic, wet sound of Marcus cutting an apple. He stood alone in the center of the tiled floor, a small island of order in the sprawling, drafty house. The fruit was pale, almost translucent, and as his knife struck the core, a thin slice slipped away, shattering into four jagged pieces that hit the counter with a dull thud....

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