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Weekly Contest #317
Rebecca sits on a worn wooden chair beside a cold, unlit fireplace. The flickering shadows cast by the dying light of day dance eerily around her, but the hearth remains lifeless, much like her thoughts. She lost all her interests and desires methodically, leaving her with an unsettling emptiness. It feels that she has deliberately tossed her cherished memories and aspirations into the fireplace, hoping to ignite them into flames to keep warm. The fire never sparked, thus leaving her mind dim and cold. The soft creaks of the house settling f...
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