The Distant Garden
Saisunee Kaewkla ground the incense into the ash tray, her fingers black with soot, the smell of burning sandalwood cutting through the stale air of the match factory office. She had counted ninety-six of the Tannery Steps in her mind, a habit born of boredom, as she prepared the ritual that would let her cross into the space between sleep and waking. The jade hairpin, her grandmother’s, was...
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