The Pale Garden

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2026-08-21 11:18:20 -

The Pale Garden

You wake with the taste of rust on your tongue, a metallic tang that coats the roof of your mouth like old blood. The air in the cellar is thick, damp, and smells of wet earth and decay. You are not in your own bed. You are not in your own skin. This is the dream that has visited you every night for the past three weeks, since you left the city of Ashworth and its smog-choked factories for the...

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