The Distant Garden

added blog Literature

2026-08-25 08:50:39 -

Act I "You are late by one second, Sarn," the glass said, though no mouth moved on the other side of the pane. Sarn Cirrus, a thirty-two-year-old clerk whose hands were perpetually stained with the blue ink of the mill ledgers, stared at his own reflection in the factory window of the reclamation yard. It was a cold morning, the kind where the light comes in low and grey, cutting across the...

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