The Distant Affair
The morning my brother disappeared, the fog in Millhaven was so thick it felt like we were drowning in milk, a white, suffocating liquid that swallowed the streetlamps and the old oak trees until the world was reduced to a radius of three feet around us, and I remember standing on the porch with the cold seeping into my wool socks, watching the silhouette of my father argue with the neighbor’s...
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