The Faded Apartment
The shouting started before the door even opened, a jagged thing that tore through the sterile silence of the hallway like a siren, and I stood there with my back pressed against the cold plaster, holding the small, heavy box in my hands as if it were a loaded weapon, my knuckles white, my breath trapped in my chest like a bird beating against the ribs. I was a soldier, I had always been a...
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