The Distant Garden

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2026-08-17 14:53:57 -

The mud on my left sleeve was dark and wet, still steaming in the cold November air. I stood in the middle of the main street of Oakhaven, a town that smelled of coal smoke and wet wool, and I felt a strange, detached calm. The crowd had parted around me like water around a stone, leaving a circle of terrified faces. They were pointing. They were shouting. I did not look at them. I looked at...

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