The Faded Dust
The house breathed. Mara heard it. A slow, wet inhale through the floorboards. She stood in the hallway. The dust motes danced. They were gray. They were thick. She left the bag by the door. It was heavy. It contained her life. Or what was left of it. The door closed. The silence rushed in. It filled the rooms. It pressed against her eardrums. Mara walked to the window. The glass was cold. She...
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