The Faded Bouquet
The chandelier above us swayed gently, a pendulum of crystal and tarnished brass that marked the passage of time with a sound like the ticking of a thousand tiny, frozen hearts, while we sat in the suffocating amber gloom of the library, surrounded by the dust-motes that danced in the shafts of light cutting through the heavy velvet curtains, and I watched my brother, Arthur, as he peeled the...
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