The Distant Garden

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2026-08-19 03:03:44 -

The building did not smell of dust or decay, as one might expect of a structure abandoned to the elements, but of ozone and wet stone, a scent that hung in the air like a held breath. I had served in the Department of Containment for thirty years, a period of time that felt less like a duration and more like a single, sustained note played on a cello, low and vibrating in the marrow of my...

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