The Wistful Atlas
The orchid arrived on a Tuesday, wrapped in brown paper that smelled of damp earth and old libraries. It sat on the desk of Arthur Penhaligon, Senior Compliance Officer for the Municipal Water Authority, a plant of such improbable, ghostly beauty that it seemed to defy the sterile, fluorescent purgatory of the fourth floor. Its petals were the color of bruised lavender, veined with a darkness...
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