The Pale Dance
The train did not stop because the tracks were broken, but because the world had simply stopped making sense, a sudden, violent silence that swallowed the clatter of wheels and the hiss of steam, leaving us suspended in a grey void where the air tasted of iron and old rain. I was sitting across from Elias, my hands trembling so violently that the tea in my cup sloshed over the rim, burning the...
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