The Pale Circus
The Pale Circus The tent arrived on a Tuesday, when the rain had been falling for eleven days straight and the sky wore the colour of wet ash. It unfolded itself in the hollow behind St. Jude's churchyard like something remembering how to be alive. Elias Thornwood saw it from the tube station steps, briefcase clutched against his chest as though it might shield him from wonder. He did not know...
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