The weak grey light that serves as harbinger of red and golden dawn faintly lit my window. I fumbled for a candle, found and lit it, and by its little light saw that the rose floating in the bowl was dying. It had already lost most of its petals, which floated on the water like tiny, un-seaworthy boats, deserted for safer craft.Dear God, I said. I must go back at once.
The story begins with a dim light creeping through the window, signaling the transition from night to dawn. The narrator, feeling the quiet urgency of the moment, lights a candle. This small source of illumination reveals a rose in a bowl, struggling and losing its petals, which float like abandoned boats on the water. This imagery reflects a sense of fragility and impending loss.
In the midst of this poignant scene,...
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All the things you can talk about in anyone's work are the things that are least important.
Race of Cain, ascend to heaven, And cast God down upon the earth!
