The Distant Promise
The velvet ribbon, dyed the deep, bruised purple of a crushed plum and stitched with threads of silver that caught the firelight like captured stars, sat upon the high-backed chair in the center of the nursery, a silent, vibrating presence that seemed to hum with a frequency only I could hear. It was a garment, or rather a fragment of one, a sash intended for the waist of a doll, yet it...
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