The Pale Dance

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-22 02:43:16 -

The Pale Dance

The fever broke at dawn. Elias sat up. The sheets clung to his sweat-soaked skin. He was in a hospital bed in London. The year was 1942. Or perhaps 1943. Time had warped. The air smelled of antiseptic and stale tea. "You’re awake." A voice. Sharp. Clinical. Elias turned his head. The pillow was damp. He looked at the man standing by the window. Dr. Aris. He wore a white coat. It was pristine....

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