The Distant Garden

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 15:30:57 -

The steam from the ironing board curled into the stagnant air of the workshop, a pale ghost that smelled of lavender and old cotton, while Silas Thorne stood before the window watching the rain streak the glass in long, weeping lines that mirrored the gray decay of his own knuckles, which were swollen and twisted like the roots of the oak tree that had once stood in the yard of his childhood...

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