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In by Lucía on August 29, 2010 at 10:34 pm

The only thing left in the room to greet her was emptiness, and a sickening sense of déjà vu. It was the combination of her absolute familiarity with the unchanged house, and the unaffected observation that what she felt for it now was a void where warmth and belonging had been before.   She was sixteen when she first left, and for years, the walls had continued to faithfully form rooms around the renters that seamlessly replaced her.  Standing in the bedroom door, she looked at her father.  He was unaware that she had not come to rent her own room.


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