The Pale Circus

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2026-08-22 14:06:14 -

The Pale Circus

The air in the canteen tasted of copper and burnt sugar. It was a thick, cloying flavor that stuck to the back of the throat. We sat in the long rows of plastic chairs. The lights were fluorescent and hummed at a frequency that drilled into the temples. I looked at my hands. They were still. They had been still for three days. Marcus sat across from me. He was eating a bowl of stew. The steam...

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