The Distant Affair
The rain had not stopped for three days, turning the gravel drive of our home into a river of brown sludge that swallowed the lower boots of the cars that still came. I stood by the kitchen window, watching the water bead and slide down the glass, blurring the line between the garden and the gray sky. It was a quiet house, or so the neighbors thought. They did not know that silence, in our line...
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