Bloom And Rot
Bloom and Rot I Savannah does not let you go. It lets you leave, perhaps, but it does not let you go. It holds you the way a hand holds a stone—gently, patiently, as if it knows the stone will eventually wear down to the shape of the hand. Ophelia Beaumont knew this. She had always known it. But knowing something and feeling it are two different things, and on the morning of the twelfth of...
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