The Distant Affair
You stand in the center of the sterile, white-tiled room, the air thick with the smell of ozone and old rain, holding a porcelain cup that has been cracked down the middle since the moment it left your hands, a jagged scar running from lip to base that mirrors the fracture in your own chest, a silence so profound it presses against your eardrums like deep water, while the fluorescent lights...
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