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Weekly Contest #68
It had been twenty-four years since she’d last seen it, but the place looked exactly the same. The dark green curtains were still pockmarked with cigarette burns, the floorboards still jutted this way and that like decaying teeth, and the fusty walls were letting out the same moist smells of desperation.“I could come with you.” Peter had said, holding Philomena by the shoulders the way he always had, as if she were a steering wheel that could crash the car of them if he were to let her go. But she hadn’t wanted that. There are certain roads ...
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