The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-19 18:24:15 -

The Wistful Petal

The rain did not fall so much as it hung, a suspended gray curtain that blurred the sharp edges of the city into a watercolor smear of brick and iron, and I stood in the doorway of the precinct, my badge heavy in my pocket, my mind a tangled knot of threads that I had spent the last three years trying to untie, feeling the dampness seep into the wool of my coat and the cold settle into the...

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