The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-18 10:31:14 -

The Wistful Petal

The banquet hall was a tomb of glass and steel. We gathered in the atrium of the new corporate campus, a structure that pierced the London fog like a needle seeking a vein. The air was sterile. It tasted of ozone and cold ambition. I stood by the pillar, observing the flow of bodies. They moved with the fluid grace of those who have never known true exile. They spoke of synergy and vision. I...

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