The Pale Dance
The rain hits the stone. It is cold. You are wet. Your hands are shaking. You hold the lantern. The glass cracks. You drop it. The flame dies. Darkness takes the square. You run. Your boots slap the mud. You know the way. You have walked it for years. The cobblestones are slick. You stumble. You catch yourself on the wall. The mortar is crumbling. The tower is there. It stands against the sky....
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