The Distant Garden
You are standing in the breakroom, and your left hand is shaking so violently that the coffee cup rattles against the saucer with a sound like a tiny, angry insect. You have to stop. You have to breathe. The fluorescent lights above hum a flat, electric note that seems to vibrate directly in your molars. This is the moment. This is the place where the architecture of your life is about to be...
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