The Faded Frequency
The rain has been falling for three days now, a steady, gray sheet that turns the gravel of the main street into a slurry of mud and memory, and I am sitting in the kitchen of the house we bought with the money from my last tour, watching the water drip from the eaves in a rhythm that feels less like weather and more like a countdown, because you are not here, and the silence in this room is so...
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