The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-17 13:58:55 -

The Wistful Petal

The banquet hall smelled of burnt sugar and industrial dust. It was a strange smell, like a Christmas tree left in a furnace, and it clung to the back of my throat, a dry, gritty film that made every sip of the complimentary water taste like licking a concrete sidewalk. We were gathered in the vast, windowless atrium of the Meridian Logistics Hub, a cathedral of cardboard boxes and humming...

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