The Pale Shadows
The hall was a mouth. A stone throat. It swallowed the light. It swallowed the sound. It swallowed the people. Margaret stood at the center. She was a statue of grey wool. Her hands were still. Her eyes were wide. They saw everything. They missed nothing. The air was thick. It smelled of wax. It smelled of old paper. It smelled of fear. The guests sat in rows. They were dark. They were silent....
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