The Distant Nightmare
The ceiling tile cracks. It splits down the middle. A jagged tear in the white gypsum. Dust falls. It lands on your lap. You do not move. You stare at the fracture. It looks like a wound. You are in the basement. The fluorescent lights buzz. It is a low, sickly sound. You are looking for evidence. You are always looking for evidence. The file folder is open. It is thin. It holds your life....
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