The Pale Dance

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 11:03:28 -

The Pale Dance

I woke with the taste of iron on my tongue. The air was thick. It smelled of old stone and dried blood. I was in a room made of glass. Or maybe it was ice. I couldn't tell. The cold bit into my bones. I moved my hand. It was stiff. My fingers didn't work right. I looked down. My skin was pale. Too pale. It looked like paper. It looked like bone. I stood up. The floor was cold. It was smooth. I...

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