The Distant Garden
You wake with the taste of iron and old rain on your tongue, the air thick with the scent of damp wool and the heavy, metallic tang of fear that has seeped into the very walls of the infirmary, a place that should have been a sanctuary of white linens and quiet healing but has instead become a labyrinth of whispered judgments and unseen eyes, and you realize with a slow, creeping horror that...
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