The Wistful Crossroads
The rain hit the hood of the car like gravel. Lily wiped the water from her face. She did not blink. Her eyes were wide. They were white. The engine sputtered. It died. Silence rushed in. It was heavy. It was thick. She looked at her hands. They were shaking. She tried to make them stop. She could not. The mirror was cracked. A spiderweb of glass covered her reflection. She looked at it. She...
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