The Golden Greenhouse
The roof collapsed at dawn. You remember the sound, a wet, heavy thud that shook the dust from the rafters, followed by the frantic scratching of roots seeking light. It was not a storm. It was the house itself, finally tired of holding up the sky. You stood in the center of what had been the living room, your boots sinking into the mud that was now the floor. The golden greenhouse, the one you...
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