The Distant Garden

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2026-08-20 20:51:57 -

The glass was already in his hand, cold and slick with condensation, when the first shard hit the floor. It didn’t shatter. It didn’t even ripple. It simply vanished, leaving a hole in the air where the water had been. "Did you see that?" he asked. His voice was flat. He was used to being flat. For twenty years, Sergeant Thomas Bradshaw had spoken with the precision of a man laying bricks. But...

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