The Distant Summer
“Look at it.” I looked. It was a red coat. My father’s coat. Hanging on the hook by the door. The door was locked. I pushed it. It didn’t move. I pulled. It didn’t move. I kicked it. The wood splintered. The lock snapped. The door swung open. The hallway was dark. The air smelled of dust. And old wool. I walked in. My feet made no sound. The carpet was thick. It swallowed the noise. I went to...
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