The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-17 11:28:46 -

The Wistful Petal

The cart wheels ground into the red clay of the hillside, shuddering with a vibration that traveled up through the soles of my boots and settled in the hollows of my knees. We had been walking for three days, or perhaps four. Time had become a slippery thing, like water poured over a stone, leaving no mark but the smoothness of the path itself. I carried the box on my back, strapped tight...

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