The Wistful Incense

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2026-08-22 16:47:45 -

The dream was always the same: the garden behind the old manor, the soil black and wet, and the wistful incense plant blooming with a stubborn, violet persistence that defied the frost. I woke with the scent of damp earth in my nose, a phantom fragrance that clung to the sheets of my narrow bed in the Bishop’s guest house. I am thirty years old, a scholar of botany, and I am desperate. My...

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