The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-20 18:11:16 -

The Faded Bouquet

The iron gate groaned. It was a sound like a dying lung. Margaret stood on the cobblestones, her breath misting in the cold air. The fog rolled in from the river. It swallowed the streetlamps one by one. She held the jar tight. The glass cut into her palm. It did not matter. The pain was a good thing. Pain kept her here. Pain kept her human. She was a soldier. Or she had been. Before the...

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