The Faded Dust
The house breathed. I could hear it. A long, shuddering exhalation that moved through the floorboards and up into the soles of my feet. It was the sound of the old coal fires dying, but it felt like something else. Something alive. Something hungry. I stood in the center of the parlor. The dust motes danced in the single beam of gray light that cut through the tall window. They were thick,...
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