Utah fiction
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I saw the same empty rooms almost every night and woke up with the unheard voices still ringing in my ears. Each night the dream felt more and more real. I could smell the musty scent of damp brink and decaying wood. I could feel the rough walls under my brown fingers, and the chilled
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Local gossip said the place had been on and off the market for years, but no one wanted it- not even for the prime location it stood on. No one lived in it, and no one cared for it, but the old house refused to disappear.
Bringing Mae Flowers 