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259. And Still the Blossoms Fall
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260. Petals Upon the Current
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... e.
Roots coiled around my limbs, pulsing faintly, as if reluctant to let go. Kudzu tendrils slithered across my ribs like threads stitching a cracked bowl back together. My breath caught... but I was breathing. That alone felt like a miracle.
The air smelled of moss and crushed petals. My skin prickled with the sensation of damp loam. I tried to move, but the plants held me gently, as though I were something precious they’d spent too long guarding. My thoughts scattered like dust ...
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