The Pale Dance

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 21:24:39 -

The Pale Dance

The lily lay in my palm. It was white. It was soft. It was dying. I held it tight. My knuckles hurt. The petals were thin. They were like paper. They were like skin. Outside, the rain hit the window. It tapped. It knocked. It asked to come in. I did not open the door. I did not want it in. I wanted the quiet. I wanted the dark. My name is Elias. I am twelve. I am small. I am afraid. The school...

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