The Faded Apartment
The rain is not falling so much as it is being pressed against the windowpane by a hand that refuses to let go, a thick, gray smear that blurs the city into a watercolor of indeterminate shapes, and you are standing in the center of the room with your back against the radiator, feeling the heat seep into the soles of your shoes, into the bones of your ankles, a warmth that feels stolen,...
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