“His name was John, a strong name though not remarkable. When they found him he weighed less than his Christmas tree. It was February and even the most festive souls had taken down their bunting, but not John. In his window the lights kept blinking through the net curtains, all hours of the day, all hours of the night. Every time I peered from my window I’d see them flashing on the tree, brittle limbs silhouetted by the glow of his standard lamp.” Read More
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