The Pale Dance

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 20:17:42 -

The Pale Dance

The silver locket was cold against my palm, a weight that felt less like metal and more like a stone pulled from the bottom of a deep, silent well. I was twelve years old, running through the mist-shrouded woods behind the Magistrate’s estate, my breath tearing at my throat in sharp, ragged gasps. I wanted only to keep the locket, the last thing my mother had pressed into my hand before the...

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