The Pale Tale
The house was quiet. It had a heavy, wet silence, like snow falling on a frozen lake. I stood in the hallway. My hands were shaking. They always shook now. Not from cold. The heat was on. It was always on. I touched my left side. The skin was smooth. The pain was gone. Or maybe I just stopped feeling it. I looked at the mirror. The glass was old. It had a crack running through the corner. I did...
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