The Pale Dance

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2026-08-19 02:01:55 -

The Pale Dance

The hall smelled of roasted pheasant and old stone. It was a smell that clung to the back of the throat, heavy and sweet. Margaret stood by the marble column, her spine rigid. She watched the room. People moved in slow, oiled circles. They were laughing. The laughter sounded thin, like dry leaves skittering across pavement. She was looking for him. Her eyes scanned the faces. They were pale...

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