The Faded Guest
The rain against the window of the fourth-floor office at St. Jude’s Home for the Aged is a rhythmic, relentless static, a white noise that drowns out the hum of the fluorescent lights and the distant, muffled coughs from the hallway. You are sitting in the high-backed leather chair, the one that creaks when you shift your weight, and you are looking at the coat. It is a charcoal grey wool...
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