The Distant Garden
The letter lay on the workbench, the paper yellowed and brittle, the ink faded to a ghostly brown. You read it three times, the words blurring in the dawn light that cut through the dust motes dancing in the air. The contract was simple: repair the Great Hall’s chime mechanism by Friday, and Mayor Vane would sign the exclusive municipal repair deed, securing your shop’s future for the next...
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