Take a seat, you are now in the village square. Enjoy!
We Are Not Alone by Nick Armitage

  I am in the bedroom and in the bedroom, on the top of our chest of drawers is a porcelain hand, the fingers of which point up to the sky, poised, waiting, open in a gracefully twisted acceptance of her rings and on the porcelain pinkie her wedding ring idles as it has done for weeks now. I can hear the radio playing in the kitchen and I can hear her moving about and I can hear the…

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