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It was something that took place backstage, when the billboard show had ended and the audience had left the theater satisfied.
Then Estarte would arrive, fully changed, and start dancing. The flames of the fireplaces would flicker out in an icy breath, and the candles would flicker -- and then, as her dance grew more and more frenzied, there would come from the depths of the night the distant howl.
✒ (Armando Doppioscontro, "Aftershow," 2007 -- translated by me.)
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