The Pale Door
The glass is already broken. You stand in the wreckage of the window, shards glittering like frozen teeth in the dark of the living room. The cold air bites at your face. It is not winter, but it feels like the end of the world. You are an outsider here. You have always been an outsider here. You look at the door. It is pale. It is the only white thing left in the house. "You did it," Thomas...
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