The Faded Sutra
You are standing in the rain, holding a suitcase that feels heavier than it should, and you are screaming at a man who is not looking at you. The man is tall, wearing a suit that costs more than your car, and he is listening to his phone. He does not hear you. He is walking away from the curb, into the grey wash of the city, and you are left holding the handle of your life, which is a battered...
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