The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-20 06:46:21 -

The Faded Bouquet

The rain hit the cobblestones in hard, gray sheets. Elias walked fast. His boots squelched. The water soaked through his wool trousers. He did not care. The cold was a mercy. It numbed the ache in his chest. The ache that had no name. Not yet. He carried a leather satchel. It was heavy. Inside, the ink was dry. The paper was thin. The words were sharp. He was a scribe. A maker of records for...

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