The Golden Greenhouse

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 00:59:29 -

The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a suspended gray mist that tasted of iron and wet ash, clinging to my uniform with the persistent, suffocating weight of a debt I could not pay. I was holding my rifle against the side of my chest like a shield, the wood slick and cold against my palm, while the mud beneath my boots sucked at my heels with a rhythmic, wet tearing sound that...

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