5.08.2013

285 of 365

He used his shoulder to muscle the door open, pushing aside boxes just to cross the threshold. Every surface was covered in thick layers of dirt and rodent excrement, the air laden with more dust than oxygen. He climbed over tattered furniture and indiscernible piles of junk strewn across the living room floor to reach the rear bedroom, the one he used to occupy, the one to which he swore he would never return.

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