The Faded Paradox
It was not a weed, it was a rose, and if you do not plant it in the east garden by moonrise, the frost will take it, and then you will have killed her twice. Elias spoke the words to the butler, Mr. Halloway, who stood with his back to the damp cellar wall, his hands clasped behind him in a posture of rigid, bureaucratic patience. The air in the cellar was thick with the smell of rotting...
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