The Pale Garden

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2026-08-18 10:40:26 -

The Pale Garden

The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a suspended gray veil that turned the world into a watercolor left out in the damp. I stood at the window of my office, the glass cold against my forehead, watching the mist swallow the ironwork of the balcony. Below, the street was empty, the cobblestones slick and black, reflecting the gas lamps that burned with a sullen, yellow defiance. It was a...

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