The Distant Machine
The chandelier above us swayed with the weight of its own light, a constellation of crystal that seemed to breathe in the stagnant air of the ballroom. I stood near the edge of the floor, holding a glass of champagne that had gone flat, watching the dancers move in their slow, practiced orbits. My sister, Elara, was in the center of it all, her dress a shade of midnight blue that swallowed the...
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