The Golden Greenhouse

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2026-08-18 14:12:19 -

The glass was thin. I could see my breath fogging against the pane, a small, white ghost that vanished before it could form a word. Inside the house, the air smelled of wet wool and old paper. I sat in the corner, my knees pulled to my chest. I was a keeper. That was all. I kept the seeds. I kept the dark. My father stood by the door. He did not look at me. He looked at the floor. He held a...

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