The Wistful Petal
October 14, 2023 The smell of the tincture is not merely unpleasant; it is a biological assertion, a pungent, rotting lilac scent that clings to the mucous membranes and refuses to be scrubbed away by soap or time. I am twelve years old, and my job, which I perform with the precision of a municipal clerk, is to ensure Julian gets the new position in the Digital Records Office. He is twenty-six,...
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