The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-19 05:51:35 -

The Wistful Petal

The departure was not a grand event, but a quiet exhalation of air into a vacuum, and I watched it happen from the other side of the glass partition. Margaret Holloway, my wife of forty years, stood at the edge of the reception desk, her handbag clutched like a shield against an invisible oncoming tide. She did not look at me. She looked at the clock on the wall, a digital monstrosity that...

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