The Wistful Voyage
You keep the window open. The rain does not come in, but the smell of wet asphalt and ozone does. It fills the small apartment, thick and heavy. You are a man of routine. You are a man of order. But tonight, the order is fraying. You look at the clock. It is three in the morning. You look at the phone on the table. It is silent. It has been silent for six hours. You pick it up. You put it down....
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