The Faded Attic
The morning light in the dormitory of St. Jude’s Orphanage did not so much illuminate the room as it suspended it in a thick, amber haze, a static film that coated the dust motes dancing above the narrow bunks and settled into the creases of the worn wool blankets, where it remained, trapped and eternal, much like the silence that hung heavy in the air, a silence that was not merely the absence...
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