The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-20 11:38:01 -

The Faded Bouquet

The lily was not a gift. It was a debt. I had found it in the damp, rotting hollow of the old elm that stood at the edge of the property, a pale, translucent thing clinging to the decay like a ghost refusing to let go of the body it had inhabited. I pulled it from the earth with my bare hands, the soil cold and slick against my palms, and I brought it inside, into the sterile, white-tiled...

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