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Dec 22, 2018 11:12:40

The Ballerina. Prologue #10

by @timsubiaco PATRON | 212 words | 🐣 | 153💌

Tim Subiaco

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I look Lina's hand and guided her down the watchtower. We knew the spiralling stone staircase so well that it didn't matter that it was pitch dark. The watchtower was our refuge. Away from the school and from anyone else. We maintained our sanity in its privacy.

We would go there as often as we could. After class in the afternoon heat, in the evening to watch the sunset paint the castle red and very often in cold depths of the night with only the moonlight to show us the way and sometimes not even that.

At the watchtower we could be who we really were. In the milieu of the house it was impossible to speak our minds and properly get close to each other. There were just too many prying eyes and besides, that was never our style. But we had a precious escape. With itching impatience we would wait until the time was right, stealing glances at each other from across the common room.

Sometimes we would talk the whole way there and back, like a radio show played at double speed. Other times we we would simply fall into each others embrace and show the affection that we had bottled up in the company of everyone else. 

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