The Wistful Petal
The pen was shaking in your hand, a fine tremor that matched the vibration of the fluorescent tube overhead, as you tried to seal the envelope containing your tenure application. You were Elias Thorne, forty-two years old, a mid-level archivist at the Ministry of Continuity, and your life had narrowed down to this single, brittle piece of paper. You needed to secure your permanent status before...
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