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Roylsden #209


A sound like muffled gunfire bent the silence of the room. Mickey glanced through the window at the darkening sky just in time to see it light up briefly. Neither moon nor stars had appeared, all were invisible behind the shutters of cloud that shrouded them and tethered down this house, as if there were nothing in the world but this room and the darkness and its increasing obscurity.
The distant noises were the cracks of thunder: an electric storm common this time of year.
No rain yet fell.
It was the precursor to the storm not the storm itself.

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