The Faded Bouquet
The fire started at the root. It did not start with a spark, nor with a match, but with a slow, chemical burn deep within the foundations of the house, a thermal anomaly that the sensors missed because the sensors were designed for surface heat, not for the cold, wet rot of ideology. You remember the smell. It was not smoke. It was the smell of ozone and crushed mint, a scent that clung to the...
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