The Golden Greenhouse

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 06:43:45 -

The glass was cold. I held it in my hands, feeling the frost bite through the wool of my gloves. Outside, the winter wind screamed against the panes, a low, mournful song that had no end. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of damp earth and rotting leaves. I was the only one who remained. The others had gone. They had packed their trunks, tied their boots, and left the door ajar. I...

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