The Distant Garden

added blog Literature

2026-08-23 03:16:03 -

March 14. I woke with the taste of wet plaster in my mouth. The dream was again of the house on Miller’s Lane, the one with the garden that seemed to stretch back into a fog that never cleared. In the dream, the front door opened like a jaw. It did not creak. It did not groan. It simply parted, revealing a throat of dark wood and shadow, and I watched a man—myself, though the face was older,...

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