The Pale Banner
I dreamed of the dog again. Not the animal itself, but the silence it left behind. It was a spaniel, old and thin, with ears that hung like torn velvet. It lay on the porch of my father’s house, its ribs showing beneath the fur, waiting for a command that would never come. When I woke, the air in my bedroom was thick. It smelled of damp wool and old paper. The digital clock glowed a soft,...
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