The Pale Garden

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2026-08-20 07:15:50 -

The Pale Garden

The rain had not stopped for three days, a persistent, grey sheet that turned the cobblestones of Millhaven into a slick, reflective mirror, and it was in the damp chill of that morning that I first heard the scratching, a sound not unlike the slow, deliberate tearing of wet paper against the plaster of the old library wall, a noise that seemed to emanate from the very bones of the building and...

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