The Distant Affair
The soup was thick. It clung to the spoon like wet wool. Margaret sat at the table. The wood was dark. It held the marks of ten years. She did not look at the bowl. She looked at the wall. The wallpaper was peeling. A strip hung loose. It swayed in the draft from the window. Thomas was not there. Thomas was never there. The house was quiet. The clock on the mantel ticked. It was a loud tick. It...
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