The Faded Road
The coat hung by the door. It was gray. Wool. Heavy. It had been there for ten years. Elias saw it every morning. He did not touch it. He walked past it. The hallway was narrow. Light came in thin strips. Dust motes danced in the beams. They moved slow. They moved steady. Elias was old. His hands shook. He held his tea cup with both hands. The steam rose. It curled. It vanished. He was a...
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