The Wistful Petal
The wisteria petal is not there when you clock in, but by the time you have sorted the morning’s intake of municipal tax ledgers from the year 1994, it is resting on your blotter, a single, iridescent thing that pulses with a soft, violet luminescence. You are Elias Thorne, forty-two years old, a mid-level archivist in the Ministry of Eternal Records, and you have spent the last three years...
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