The Wistful Mountain
The clock on the wall ticks. It is loud. You sit at the desk. The wood is cold. You are the manager. You have been the manager for twenty years. The office is white. The light is flat. You look at the file. It is thick. It is heavy. You open it. The paper is yellowed. You smell it. It smells like rain. It smells like old stone. You know this smell. You have always known this smell. Your sister,...
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