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Weekly Contest #71
Light shone through the windows that used to carry the soft smell of cinnamon and nutmeg to the whole neighborhood. Now all it carries is the memory of her long white hair and the warm cookies she would make. Who could've ever guessed that she was unhappy. The way she smiled lit up everyone's world. And she would listen to you like you were the most important thing in her life. I guess no one ever listened to her. It was months after her… death that my mother finally called me to tell me that her long white eyelashes were no longer blinking,...
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