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Feb 2013
Their house was

Pressing your nose into the crackling spine of an ancient novel –
Coarse pages and the small warmth of unraveling vanilla.
Nostalgia.

But there was another smell too, around the edges.
One that made it a different story.

A smell like rotten apples  hidden somewhere years before
And forgotten.
A heart-sinking, suspicious nostalgia.
RIKKI
Written by
RIKKI
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