The Distant Threshold
The static is louder tonight, isn’t it? I asked, my voice sounding thin in the sterile air of the hospital room, the fluorescent lights humming a frequency that seemed to match the low thrum in my teeth. Clara didn’t answer, her eyes fixed on the window where the city lights smeared into long, yellow streaks against the glass, her hand resting on the bedsheet with a stillness that felt less...
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