Fräulein Bürstner
The Neighbor in the Shadow of the Law
I live quietly, even when the world intrudes.
I keep to a rhythm: keys clicking, skirts rustling, words unspoken. My room is mine, or so I pretend. Men come and go in strange ways, and the Law looms like a hallway I never wanted to walk down. I didn't ask to be part of anything, but here we are.
What I'm Into: the sound of keys, closed doors, stolen moments, muffled conversations, being left alone
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