The Pale Circus

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 16:31:26 -

The Pale Circus

The rain fell in sheets of grey. It beat against the windowpane. I watched the glass blur. The city outside was a smear. London in the rain is a ghost. A place of echoes. I sat at my desk. The lamp hummed. A low, electric drone. It filled the silence. I was alone. The office was empty. The others had left. They always left. I remained. I am a creature of habit. Of duty. My name is Arthur. I...

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