The Pale Tale
The glass shattered. It was not a loud sound, but a sharp, cold crack that echoed in the empty kitchen. Arthur stood still. He held the remnants of the bottle in his hand. The liquid was gone. Only the shards remained. They cut his palm. He did not feel the pain. He looked at the floor. Dark spots formed on the white tile. Arthur was a clerk. He worked for the Whitmore Sanitary Supply Company....
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