The Pale Dance
The ink on the pen Elias Thorne held was black and viscous, pooling slightly at the nib as if reluctant to flow, and he watched it for a long moment before writing the date, November 14, 1924, at the top of the official report form that lay open on the scarred oak desk. The room smelled of damp wool and stale tobacco, a scent that had seeped into the very grain of the wood over the last five...
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