Story a day: 7.30.16

It’s ok. I don’t expect your thanks.

I will continue setting the cobwebs and sprinkling dust on the bookshelves. I’ll make sure your favorite volumes smell like sweet decay. I’ll leave dirt in your window frames and grime around your faucets.

But don’t thank me. I hear your curses, your muttering, your clean-smelling rage.

But when I’m gone, trust you’ll miss me.

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