The Faded Dust
The door was locked. It had been locked for three days. Margaret stood in the center of the room. The carpet was gray. It was worn thin. The thread was loose. She looked at her feet. Her shoes were old. The soles were flat. They had no grip. She did not move. She stood still. The air was cold. It smelled of dust. It smelled of stone. It smelled of time. The walls were bare. There were no...
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