The Wistful Saga
The coffee is cold. You leave it on the counter next to the sink. It has a skin on top, a thin, brown membrane that ripples when you breathe too hard. You do not drink it. You watch it. The kitchen is white. The tiles are white. The light from the window is white. It is Tuesday. You know it is Tuesday because the mailman left the bill on the doormat. It is the electric bill. It is thick. It is...
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