The Pale Garden
Your hand is shaking. You are holding a pen that has run dry, scratching at the edge of a page that smells of damp rot and old ink. The date is Wednesday. You have two days left to finish the thesis. If you do not submit it by Friday, the grant is gone. If the grant is gone, you are on the street. The manor is cold, but the cellar is warmer, though it smells of wet earth and something sweet,...
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