The Distant Promise
The ivy did not climb so much as it devoured, its thick, waxy leaves turning the brickwork of the old municipal hall into a skin of green flesh that pulsed with a slow, vegetal heartbeat, and within that suffocating embrace lived Maren, who was no longer quite a woman but something closer to a root system, her legs fused to the flagstones, her arms stretching upward like boughs seeking a sun...
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