The Faded Apartment
The rain had been falling on the rooftops of Chicago for three days straight, a persistent, gray curtain that turned the streetlights into blooming smears of amber and white. I stood in the doorway of the apartment on Wabash Avenue, holding a ceramic bowl in my hands. It was a heavy thing, glazed in a deep, bruised purple that seemed to drink the light from the small, flickering bulb above us....
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