The Distant Garden

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2026-08-25 12:19:46 -

The date is October 14th, and I am packing the last of my drafting tools into a canvas bag that smells of graphite and stale coffee, the weight of the future pressing against my shoulders before I have even stepped foot in the car. I am leaving Oakhaven not out of despair, but out of a precise, calculated necessity to secure the pension that my twenty-five years of structural integrity have...

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