The Pale Dance

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 01:24:29 -

The Pale Dance

The frost had come early. It crept up the stone walls of the Abbey, white and creeping, like a slow disease. You stood at the window. The glass was cold against your cheek. Outside, the village of Alderham lay still. The chimneys puffed thin smoke into the gray air. The world held its breath. You knew it would not last. You were the Keeper. That was your title. No one else could bear the weight...

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