The Faded Paradox
Margaret left the office before the rain stopped. She walked to the car. Her hands were wet. The leather gloves were ruined. She looked at them. The right thumb was worn thin. The skin showed. It was pale. It was cracked. She sat in the driver’s seat. She did not start the engine. She stared at the glove. It was a mirror. It showed her age. It showed her failure. The firm was a building of...
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