The Distant Garden

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2026-08-23 13:46:13 -

The inventory list lay on the desk, the paper yellowed and brittle as old skin, and I signed it with a hand that trembled not from cold, but from the weight of the iron quill that seemed to grow heavier with every stroke. The date was the fourteenth of November, 1924, and the ink was still wet as I felt the first pull, a subtle draining of warmth from my fingertips that left them pale and numb....

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