The Distant Ghost
You leave the door unlocked. That is the first rule. The second rule is that you do not look back. The third rule is that the house is yours. You say this to the air. You say it to the dust motes dancing in the single shaft of sunlight cutting through the window. You say it to the silence that has settled into the walls like old blood. I am here, you think. I am the ghost who stayed. The woman...
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