The Golden Greenhouse
The glass breaks before the light hits it, a shattering that feels less like a sound and more like a sudden, violent inhalation of the air in your lungs, leaving you gasping for breath that tastes of iron and ozone. You are standing in the center of the greenhouse, the Victorian iron ribs creaking under the weight of a sky that has turned the color of a bruised plum, and you are holding...
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