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Weekly Contest #368
The hallway still smelled of jasmine at this hour. Joel shifted his briefcase to his other hand. The oak-brown marker he scrawled to fill the leather's cracks transferred to his damp palm. He took solace in knowing that even though his heart was racing, his mind stood calm. He crossed one foot in front of the other as he passed rusting doors and disingenuous welcome mats. Thinking of the countless times he had lost the key card, his shoulders slumped until his narrow fingers extracted it from the inner lining of his coat. ...
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