its the cradle and the home and the bumps in between
by zac carter
the door opened quieter than it should. given the state of the place, the mismatched paintings, the spreads a few inches off of straight, the gold plated entry chain flaking on down to rust, you would have expected a shudder of some sort.
but it didnt, and then it was open just like that, the light from the exterior flood harsh against my eyes, used to the little fifty watters in the bathroom.
'hi,' you said, quietly, and i could discern what looked like the beginnings of a smile through my still straining corneas.
...
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"its the cradle and the home and the bumps in between" is roughly 920 words.
zac carter is pretty goddamned something. deathtohemingway@gmail.com.