What Remains of Rose
What Remains of Rose The name was just Rose. She knew that much. Not Rose anything — not Rose Wilson, not Rose Johnson. Just Rose. She'd forgotten the rest the same way you forget the ending of a dream, piece by piece until only the feeling was left. Detroit in 1978 was a city that had decided to die slowly. Factories sat empty on every corner, their windows broken, their doors propped open...
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