The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-21 10:54:37 -

The Faded Bouquet

The rain did not fall; it was driven, a horizontal assault that blurred the line between the heather and the grey sky. Margaret Holloway walked with her head down, shoulders hunched against the wind, her coat soaked through to the skin. In her left hand, she clutched a bouquet of dried lavender, brittle and brown, wrapped in yellowing newsprint. It was an object out of time, a relic from a...

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