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42 pages, Kindle Edition
Published November 28, 2025
Dozens of eyes peeled my flesh, dissecting me, stripping me bare. I was a flower pressed into glass, admired for my beauty and not my worth. I was something to behold, but never to be loved.
I could almost imagine that if I stayed this way long enough that I might begin to grow moss. My skin might become stone, and I would cease to feel anything other than the gently stroking of the shallows agains my soul.
... and I understood that my monster and I were at last home.