The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-19 22:37:15 -

The Faded Bouquet

The dream had no sky, only the endless, suffocating gray of a basement that did not exist in the waking world, where the floor was made of compressed, rotting leaves and the air tasted of wet copper and old rain. Thomas Bradshaw stood in the center of this non-space, his uniform not the crisp wool of his service but a heavy, sodden thing that clung to his ribs like a second skin, weighing him...

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