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Snippet: A House that Creaks
The Dime
wilowisp
For Laurant and Imogen, took two days to fall in love, and seven months to fall out of it, but a regretful nine years to finally be free of each other. By the time the last of his things were gone, they were both gray and bitter, sustained on a harsh diet of caustic remarks and quiet loathing. Neither of them would ever be able to find someone else, not with the deep scars that dictated their every knee jerk reaction. Nor would they find comfort in, at last, being alone. She took to arguing with the furniture. He drank too much.

Fortunately, they had never had children, or pets, or even a potted plant. Instead, they had simple owned a house together - a turn-of-the-last-century two-bedroom that never received the glorious remodeling that they had once planned. It was quaint, with dusty character and falling-apart charm. In the middle years of their misery, each haunted the place in their own way, and the inevitable destruction of their relationship was only held off because each wanted the other to leave. Eventually, Imogen forced Laurant out, and claimed the halls for herself. At that point, it was nigh impossible for Laurant to hate her more than he already did, and so he abandoned the two wretched creatures to each other.

For the house had grown in their spiteful light. Sleeping roots were stirred, and forgotten electricities awoken. And it was not a happy thing.
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