The Pale Garden

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2026-08-20 01:04:54 -

The Pale Garden

The pill was blue. That was the only fact that held still in the swirling grey fog of my mind. It sat on the polished mahogany of the intake desk, a tiny, synthetic sapphire, gleaming with a cold, indifferent light. I watched it tremble as the air conditioning vent above us exhaled its stale, recycled breath. The room smelled of lemon polish and old paper, a scent that had permeated the walls...

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