The Faded Bouquet
The orchid was white. It was the only white thing in the room, a stark, bleeding eye against the mahogany paneling of the Minister’s office. Elias stood by the window. The glass was cold against his forehead. He did not blink. Inside the pot, the roots were black and wet. They looked like veins stripped from a body. "You are staring at it," Minister Vane said. His voice was soft. It was the...
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