In The Hallway.

Her Image.

Photo by Christian Holzinger on Unsplash

It was nine-thirty when I unlocked the apartment door, stepped through the doorway, and flicked open the lights. The image of Rhea standing in the hallway looking at me smiling washed over my eyes. It lasted only for a few fleeting moments, trapped between the crush of complete darkness and a halo of bright lights. And after that, she was gone.

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