The Faded Frontier
The rain hammered the tin roof. I held the knife. My hands shook. The wind screamed outside. I looked at the wall. The plaster was peeling. Darkness crept in. I waited for the breath. It came. Soft. Cold. I raised the blade. I struck. The air split. Nothing landed. Only silence. I lowered the steel. My heart beat fast. I am a seer. Or so they say. In this city, that is a curse. I live in a room...
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