The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-18 20:38:44 -

The Faded Bouquet

The heavy oak door groaned, a sound like a bone snapping, as you stepped out into the grey morning mist that clung to the cobblestones of Blackwood Hollow. You did not look back. You could not look back. To look back was to invite the weight of what you had done to settle upon your shoulders, a physical thing, a leaden cloak woven from your own breath and the cold, wet air of the valley. In...

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