The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-23 06:42:01 -

The Faded Bouquet

The hand was dry as parchment, and it had been dry for forty years, yet when I touched the glass case that morning, the knuckles seemed to flex in the weak October light, a movement so slight it might have been the settling of dust, or the trick of my own fraying nerves, or the slow, inevitable collapse of a thing that had held its shape for too long against the will of time. October 12, 1998....

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