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Weekly Contest #318
The damp, cool white noise of the window AC unit filled the otherwise silent room. It sounded like wind wheezing past your ears in a snowstorm; it was almost as cold, too. Accompanying the faux breeze was snow falling from the ceiling, snow of chipping paint, immediately turning to dust once it hit the wooden floors and the cotton-blend comforter atop Salem’s bed. Soon, if she didn’t move in time, she would look like a victim of an avalanche. Salem stared up at the ceiling, counting every time the AC’s breeze forced another snowflake of pain...
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