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Weekly Contest #354
I stared at my hands on the driving wheel while waiting at the stoplight. I kept asking myself if I should have even come back here. But the voice of my sister called me home after mother’s death, and she told me to meet her there around noon, but I was getting there early, to see the house alone before she got there. To see what once was. I stopped talking to my mother thirty years ago. She would send letters in the mail through my sister, but I did not reply to any of them, some I never read. But now she is dead, and someone needs to clean...
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