The Sisyphus Marriage
The apartment was a masterpiece of mid-century modernism—all white walls, glass surfaces, and a silence so absolute it felt like a vacuum. Julian stood in the kitchen, pouring a glass of water with a precision that was almost mechanical. He didn't look at the clock, but he knew it was exactly 8:00 AM. In precisely three seconds, the door to the bedroom would open, and Clara would emerge,...
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