Felicia Chapman

Rachel stood in the middle of her living room. Large eyes surveyed the furniture in a sweeping arc, taking in the expensive carpet, the beige leather sofa and coffee table with its customary one or two magazines carelessly strewn on the polished ash effect top.

Jim’s television sat brooding and silent in the far corner, silently observing her return to her home after so long. Her reflection dimly mirrored in the black glass. A still, thin figure...

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