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Weekly Contest #26
Sometimes it seemed that the dead were louder than the living. The wind howled through the alleys and over the buildings like an angry spirit in search of vengeance. The trees shivered in its wake, their branches almost entirely bare of leaves in the wake of the winter's chill. Nobody would leave their shelters to face the weather or the sad reality of what had become of their homes. Nobody spoke. Only one soul roamed the streets that day. Her figure was almost indiscernible in the dark of the day. The clouds had obscured the sun, ...
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