The Distant Garden
Mara stood in the doorway. Her husband was gone. He had taken his coat. He took the silence with him. The door clicked shut. The sound was small. It was final. She looked at the floor. A single shoe remained. It was black leather. It was scuffed at the toe. It sat there alone. It was a ghost of a pair. Mara did not touch it. She stepped over it. Her foot found the cold tile. The house was...
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