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Recent
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33 Public Access
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Journal Entry 2022-09-15
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32 Nirvana’s Prank
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31 Illiteracy and Education
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Journal Entry 2022-09-13
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Markus, Hammer of the Earth
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Young Master Monkedil
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Journal Entry 2022-09-11
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30 Miracles
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29 Bellboy or Butler?
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Journal Entry 2022-09-07
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28 An Old Dog, A New Trick
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27 My Foot and the Gun
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Journal Entry 2022-09-01
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Journal Entry 2022-08-31
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Journal Entry 2022-08-27
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26 Making a Scene
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Journal Entry 2022-08-24
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25 Mending Fences
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Journal Entry 2022-08-23
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Cracked Drywall
The realtor said the house had good bones. She said this while standing in the kitchen, one hand on the laminate counter, the other gesturing at crown molding that had been painted over so many times it had lost its edges. She said it with the particular brightness of someone who’d been showing the same
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Chapter 13 – Millie and the Narrow Woods
Gerald was at the gate when Millie came across the yard. He had finished the morning circuit — chickens, woodbox, hall — and watered the basil row before Sable arrived. The soil was dark where he had poured. The greenhouse had held the night’s warmth in its panels and the air inside was thick and
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Chapter 12 – Sand Day
Pim woke him in the dark. Not with a shake or a call. Gerald opened his eyes to the sound of boots on the stairs — two careful steps, a pause, then the creak of his bedroom door swinging just wide enough for a voice to reach the bed. “Wagon in twenty minutes. Dress warm.”
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Chapter 11 – Rainy Afternoon
The rain came in sideways and stayed. It had started during the morning circuit — a scatter of drops on the greenhouse panels that thickened while Gerald poured, the sound growing from a tap to a drum to something that swallowed the dripping condensation and the creak of the stakes and everything else. By the
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Chapter 10 – The Argument
Gerald had been circling it for three days. Not the greenhouse. The greenhouse was where his body went every morning — through the heavy door that stuck on the humidity, across the flagstones to the barrel, can filled, circuit begun. His hands did what his hands had learned to do: pour close on the herbs,
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Chapter 09 – Dirt Under His Nails
Gerald’s basil row did not forgive quickly. Three mornings after the drowning, the replanted seeds had not shown. The soil was dark where he had turned it, darker than the beds on either side, and each morning Gerald knelt beside the row before the circuit, looking for the pale curve of a stem breaking the
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Guardian Angels
The field had been a hayfield once. You could tell from the stubble poking through the mud where the tires hadn’t ground it flat. Thirty, maybe forty cars and trucks nosed into rough rows between the tree line and a barn that leaned about ten degrees past optimistic. Most of the vehicles were domestics —
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Chapter 08 – Under Glass
The greenhouse was a different kind of warm. Gerald had been through it before — carrying herbs for Mary, fetching an empty pot Nessa needed, once helping Sable move a tray of seedlings from one bench to another while Mam propped the door. He had passed through it on his way to somewhere else, a
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Chapter 07 – The Rainbow Wall
The week ended where it had begun. Gerald crouched near the main gate with his knees in the packed dirt and a piece of glass in his hand. The sun was behind the house and the ridge, low enough that the light came in at an angle he had not seen before — long, reaching,
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Chapter 06 – Rain and the River
The rain came sideways. Gerald stood in the front hall with his arms through his coat sleeves and his boots still unlaced, watching through the glass panels beside the door. The water fell in thick, angled lines that blurred the workshop and the stables into grey shapes. The packed dirt of the yard was already
