The Golden Song
The glass shattered against the floorboards with a sound like a scream cut short. I did not blink. I stood in the center of the dining room, the shards of my mother’s favorite vase scattering around my feet. The air tasted of copper and old dust. The silence that followed was not empty. It was heavy. It pressed against my eardrums. My mother stood by the door. She did not shout. She looked at...
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