The Wistful Witness

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 20:39:04 -

The fern is green. It is always green. You hold it in your hands, its fronds curling against your palms, soft and damp. The air in the office is dry. It smells of dust and old paper. You are still. You are waiting. The fern is a living thing. It breathes. You feel its subtle pulse. It is a mirror of your own quiet endurance. You have kept it for years. It has outlived three managers. It has...

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