The Distant Garden

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2026-08-19 20:08:23 -

The house was on fire before the sun had cleared the ridge. Margaret stood on the porch. She watched the roof collapse. The heat pressed against her face. It smelled of pine and old paper. "Margaret." Thomas stood behind her. He held a cup of coffee. It was cold. He had been holding it for an hour. "It’s gone, Thomas." "I see." He looked at her. His eyes were wet. He did not blink. "We should...

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