Personal Narrative: The Silence Of The Air

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The silence of the air remaining motionless. The typewriter's keys periodically snap the silence. Each click was like a chisel striking and penetrating my heart. What remained was that of a mutilated sculpture, ready to collapse. This story wasn't meant to be read; only to help find myself in the events that had happened or what was about to. And if you are reading this. Then I guess I was unsuccessful in my attempts at finding such a

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