The Pale Dance
The porcelain bird lay in pieces on the desk, its glaze chipped to reveal the raw, white clay beneath, a shattered mirror of the fragile bond Elias shared with his younger sister, Clara. He stood in the center of the archival office, the air thick with the dust of old paper and the silent judgment of the rows of metal cabinets that lined the walls. Elias was thirty-two, an archivist who had...
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