The Pale Path

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2026-08-21 14:51:17 -

The Pale Path

The garden was dying. I watched it from the kitchen window, the glass cold against my forehead. The roses had turned to brown lace. The ivy peeled back from the brick like dead skin. I knew what people said about me. They said I was mad. They said I was keeping him in the dark. They said the house was a tomb and I was the gravekeeper. I ignored them. I had better things to do. I had to find the...

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