The Pale Garden

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 19:01:20 -

The Pale Garden

The fog does not roll in here. It seeps. It crawls up the flagstones of the courtyard like a living, pale thing, seeking the cracks in the mortar. You stand at the edge of the garden, the pale garden that your father built before his mind began to fray. The roses are gone. Only the white thorns remain, skeletal fingers gripping the earth. You are Margaret. You are the keeper of the gate. You...

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