What the Crack in the Ceiling Saw
I was born on a Tuesday in July of 1998. The house was seven years old then. The man who built it, a contractor named Hendricks, had cut corners. He had used cheap drywall and cheaper labor and the cheapest materials that would pass inspection. In the guest room, the one at the end of the hall with the window that faced the neighbor's fence, he had not properly sealed the joint between two...
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