The Distant Garden

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2026-08-20 18:17:56 -

The rosebush in the corner of the conservatory had not bloomed in three years. Its thorns were the size of needles, blackened at the tips, and its leaves curled inward like fists refusing to open. Elias sat before it, his hands resting on the armrests of his wheelchair, watching the dust motes dance in the single beam of light that pierced the heavy velvet curtains. The house was silent, a...

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