The Distant Garden

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2026-08-21 16:18:06 -

The rain in the Capital did not fall so much as it asserted itself, a cold, gray sheet that turned the cobblestones of the Parliament Square into mirrors of bruised slate. I stood under the awning of the Ministry of Aesthetics, watching the water drip from the brass gutter in a rhythm that felt less like weather and more like a clock counting down to something I could not name. My father,...

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