The Distant Machine
"Did you hear it again?" I did not look up from the table. The wood was cold. My hands were shaking. I poured the tea. The water was still hot. It hissed. A small sound. Like a sigh. "Yes," I said. My brother, Thomas, sat across from me. He was pale. His eyes were wide. He looked at the wall. I looked at my cup. "Where?" I asked. "Inside," he whispered. "In the walls." I laughed. It was a dry...
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