The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-21 19:27:44 -

The Wistful Petal

The rain did not fall so much as it materialized, a fine, persistent mist that clung to the wool of Marguerite’s cloak and seeped into the marrow of her bones, transforming the damp, moss-eaten stones of the ancient forest floor into a slick, treacherous mirror of the grey sky above, a reflection that seemed to hold more truth than the physical world ever could. She walked with the slow,...

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