The Pale Dance

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2026-08-20 22:08:49 -

The Pale Dance

You dream of the ferns. They are not in the garden. They are in the air. They are in the blood. You wake. The room is grey. The light is thin. It cuts the dust. You are still. You breathe. The breath is shallow. The breath is cold. You look at your hands. They are pale. They are your hands. They are not the hands of a god. They are the hands of a clerk. You are a clerk. You count the numbers....

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