The Faded Road
"You dropped it." I look down. The leather strap is on the floor. It’s black. It’s frayed at the ends. The metal buckle is tarnished. I pick it up. It feels heavy. It feels light. It’s just a belt. "Did you?" I ask. "Maybe," you say. You are standing by the window. The glass is dirty. There are smudges on it. Rain is falling outside. The street is empty. We are in the room. The room is small....
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