The Distant Whispers

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2026-08-17 14:28:54 -

The door closed. The lock clicked. I stood in the hall. The dust motes danced. They were fat and slow. They did not care. I looked at my hands. They were white. They were still. The house breathed. It was a deep sound. A wet sound. Like lungs. I am the caretaker. I keep the lights on. I sweep the floors. I am small. The house is big. It eats me. It is okay. I like the dark. I like the walls....

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