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Weekly Contest #376
Stanley had always assumed that the first thing he’d see after death would be his wife, Louise. Or, if not her, then at least that glorious light that everyone assumes will be there. He wouldn’t have said no to a choir of angels either. But there was nothing. Nothing but a heavy stillness that settled into his limbs, pinning him to the cushions of his trusted, velvet wingback chair. His frozen, unblinking eyes still stared straight ahead into the front hall. There, in the center of the hallway, standing directly atop Stanley’s antique Persi...
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