The Golden Greenhouse
The air in the Conservatory of St. Jude’s Academy was not merely warm; it was pressurized, a thick, humid blanket of chlorophyll and damp earth that seemed to settle into the pores of one’s skin. I stood before the central atrium, my hands resting on the cold iron railing, watching the specimens below. We called them the Verdant Collection, a polite euphemism for a garden that did not obey the...
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