The Distant Garden
The sledgehammer slipped from Elias’s grip before he could fully commit to the swing, lifting three inches off the concrete slab with a soundless, heavy grace. He stood frozen, his knuckles white and raw, watching the twelve-pound head hover in the stagnant air of the basement. The tool did not spin or vibrate; it simply hung there, suspended by a force that defied the engineering principles he...
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