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Fields
Deep in the Louisiana woods, I stumbled upon an abandoned house, a relic of a bygone era. The front and back doors gaped wide open, inviting the curious and the brave. Under the carport, an old, rusting car sat motionless, a silent witness to years of neglect. Inside, the furniture remained eerily untouched, as if the occupants had vanished in an instant. In a dusty closet, an Air Force uniform hung solemnly, the name tag “Fields” a poignant reminder of the life once lived within these walls.
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