The metal door began to roll open as she held her breath. Its parts creaked like the bones of a giant roused from his slumber, like a Lazarus that had hidden his flaming heart within fireproof walls, patiently sleeping as the comatose do.The smell hit her first. Mold. Dampness. Cold lifeless things.Within, there was a darker sort of silence, as if the building had been holding its breath for so long it had forgotten how to breathe.
-Angela Panayotopulos
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