The Faded Apartment
The radiator clanked, a rusty, metallic cough that seemed to rattle the very bones of the apartment, and Margaret looked up from her crossword with a sharpness that had nothing to do with the puzzle and everything to do with the silence in the room. She was forty-three, a number that felt less like a milestone and more like a bruise, tender to the touch and slowly darkening. The apartment in...
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