The Distant Garden
The moth is dead. It lies in your palm. The wings are torn. The scales are dust. You hold it. It is light. It is nothing. You are in the garden. The garden is vast. The walls are high. The air is thick. It smells of rot. It smells of old stone. You are a scholar. You study the insects. You study the decay. You study the end. The sun is low. The light is red. It burns the eyes. You look down....
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