The Wistful Crossroads

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2026-08-18 20:01:51 -

The house burned while I was washing the dishes. I saw the smoke. It curled up from the chimney like a dark ribbon. It twisted. It danced. It did not smell like wood. It smelled like hair. It smelled like the old wool coats hanging in the hall. I set down the plate. The water dripped from my fingers. I walked to the window. The sky was grey. The fire was small. Then it was not small. I did not...

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