The Faded Apartment
The letter lay on the workbench, its edges curling upward like a leaf drying in the sun, and I read it three times before my hands began to tremble, not from fear, but from the sheer, crushing weight of the silence that followed the final line. It was from the City Hall procurement office, dated the 14th of October, and it informed me in dry, bureaucratic prose that the commission for the new...
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