The Distant Garden

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 18:43:51 -

The coat had been red. It was not bright. It was the color of dried blood under a winter moon. Maren wore it every day. It was the only thing that fit. Her body had shrunk. The disease was a thief. It stole inches from her legs. It stole years from her face. But the coat stayed. It hung on her like a ghost. The wind was howling. The train was late. She sat on the bench in the waiting room. The...

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