The Distant Garden

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 22:45:17 -

I woke to the smell of wet iron and old rain. It was not a dream. It was the city, breathing its gray, industrial sigh through the open window of my workshop. The air tasted of ozone and rust, a metallic tang that coated the tongue. I sat up. The room was dim. Dust motes danced in the single shaft of light piercing the heavy curtains. My hands were still. They were always still. They were tools...

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