The Distant Garden

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 18:51:22 -

The banquet hall smells of burnt sugar and ozone. You are standing in the center of the room, wearing a dress made of shredded calendars. The pages flutter at your ankles, a rustle of expired Tuesdays and forgotten birthdays. You feel light. You feel hollow. Around you, the employees eat. They do not chew. They merely open their mouths, letting the food pass through them like air through a...

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