The Distant Garden

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2026-08-21 18:32:11 -

The rain had not stopped for three days, a persistent, gray weeping that turned the cobblestones of the abbey courtyard into slick mirrors reflecting the leaden sky. Margaret stood by the high, narrow window of the scriptorium, watching the water trace its slow, inevitable paths down the glass. It was a cold, damp morning in the late autumn, and the air inside the stone walls smelled of wet...

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