The Faded Apartment
I woke with the taste of iron and old paper on my tongue, the dream having evaporated like breath on a cold window, leaving only the heavy, suffocating weight of a truth I had never possessed but now felt carved into my marrow. The apartment was silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator, a low, electric moan that seemed to vibrate through the floorboards and into my bones. It was a modern...
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