Broken: A Short Story

He resides in that broken home, not living, not dying. He resides in that broken home, not living, not dying. Holes in the ceiling between upstairs and down, nature forcing its way in through the floor. All he wears is white boxers and a white t-shirt, the last remaining hints of a purity long past. He exists, faithful dog at his side, in this place with no hope. He wanders from room to room, or…

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