The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-20 20:41:37 -

The Wistful Petal

The lozenge was blue, a shade of cobalt so deep it seemed to hold the night sky within its brittle, sugar-coated shell, and I held it in my palm as if it were a live bird, feeling the faint, cold pulse of its chemical promise against my sweat-slicked skin while the walls of the house, which had once belonged to my father and before him to his father, leaned inward with a heavy, wooden groan...

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