The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-22 16:15:46 -

The Wistful Petal

The fire started in the hearth before the kettle had even begun to whistle, a sudden, roaring tongue of orange that licked at the ceiling beams and smelled of sulfur and old paper. You stood in the center of the library, Elias, forty-two years old and shaking with a cold that had nothing to do with the heat, watching the flames devour the spines of the encyclopedias your father had bought in...

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