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Weekly Contest #356
I fixed my gaze on the brown slush pooling on the sidewalk, watching as snowflakes collided with the frost-crusted glass of the window. The man in the chair across from us spoke like a prophet, his thinning grey beard swaying with the conviction of his words. They were hateful and filled the room like the smell of old fish, but Mother swallowed them up, licking the blood red lipstick from her lips. She leaned into his words, silently exhaling through her mouth, as if she were afraid the whistle of breath traveling through her nose might dist...
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