The Pale Circus

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 14:54:15 -

The Pale Circus

The bread was warm. I broke it with my teeth. It tasted of ash and honey. My wife, Elara, watched me. Her eyes were dark pits. She did not speak. She held a knife. The blade was dull. It had been dull for years. We were in the tent. The canvas was white. It glowed in the dark. Outside, the crowd roared. They wanted the trick. They wanted the beast. I was the beast. I had been the beast for ten...

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