The Pale Verdict
The kettle screams. It is a high, thin sound, like a bird caught in a wire. You stand in the kitchen. The linoleum is cold under your bare feet. You are Margaret. You are forty-two. You are tired. "Is it ready?" asks Thomas. He is standing in the doorway. His coat is wet. The rain has been falling since noon. It is a gray, heavy rain that stains the windows of the mill town. You do not look at...
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