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metaphor

There’s a golden glow that seeps into my house as the sun is setting, but it reveals all the grime that was muddled in on the floor. I try to clean, sweep and mop, to make the hardwood floors reflect the beaming light better, but now the rooms too bright and my eyes are having a hard time adjusting. I push myself into a shadow so I don’t have to deal with the discomfort of adjusting right away, but by the time the light is tolerable, the sky is already dark.
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Written by
whoareyou
21 / F / American
For You?
Written by
whoareyou
21 / F / American
Published
Mar 20, 2019
Lines·Words
6·91
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