The Distant Garden

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2026-08-24 16:05:44 -

Act I Did the bridge know it was going to break? I asked the stone, my knuckles white against the parapet, the damp of the canal seeping through my coat to my skin. It was a question that had no answer, only the creak of the timber beneath the deck and the distant, rhythmic clatter of the school choir rehearsing for the dead in the village square. I am Fintan Rafferty, thirty-four years old,...

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