The Distant Whispers

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 07:48:26 -

Mara sat in the break room. The coffee was cold. It tasted of burnt sugar and metal. She held the mug with both hands. The ceramic was warm. Her fingers were cold. She looked at the door. It was closed. No one was coming. The clock on the wall ticked. Tick. Tick. Tick. It sounded like a hammer. It struck the air. It struck her heart. The break room was small. The walls were beige. The table was...

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