Chapter 4 - THE THIRTY DAYS
The garden began to grow during the second week.
Tiny green shoots pushed through the soil, fragile enough to be destroyed by a careless step.
Every morning, I checked them before breakfast.
Their existence comforted me.
Nothing about them was dramatic.
They did not need an audience.
They only needed light, water, and time.
My life began to resemble theirs.
May you like
I rehearsed for Blackwater.
I ran along the mountain road.
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