The Pale Circus

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 15:17:27 -

The Pale Circus

The smoke did not smell of wood, as you had been taught it should, but of burnt hair and wet wool, a cloying, ancient stench that curled around your nostrils and sat heavy in the back of your throat, refusing to be exhaled. You stood at the edge of the containment zone, the yellow tape snapping and thrashing in the wind like the flapping of a broken wing, and you watched the structure collapse...

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