The Distant Garden
Marta sat in the center of the room, the air around her thin and cold, though the heater hummed its low, mechanical death rattle in the corner. The room was small, a closet-sized study at the end of a long, dust-choked hallway in a house that seemed to lean against itself in perpetual exhaustion. Outside, the rain lashed the single pane of glass, blurring the world into a gray smear. Inside,...
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