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THE SILVER GARDEN
    Before I e a. And a moment later, before I even opened my eyes, I kne .

    Gone  oo, tangle, and from it tered a s illuminated every aspect of my room. It  I felt a surge of joy, as t  just a nig  er. It was as if spring had come.

    t ently into tir, ely jumped do to go out. I pulled my clot on, and  doairs togeto tche garden.

    I realized my mistake t I stepped outdoors. It  day. It  t moonlig souclines of tatuary figures. I stopped still and stared at t  circle, ood till daybreak, but t, impatient, pressed my ankles for attention, and I bent to stroke ouco pause a few yards off and look over his shoulder.

    I turned up t, ss and followed.

    do tly; on t turned into t te borders of box t surrounded tterns ted in and out of t, simes I  an angle to catc perfectly; a sudden vie oak tree, etcy against t I could not stop. All time, t stalked on aep, tail raised like a tour guide’s umbrella signaling to t bordered tain pool and padded s perimeter, ignoring tion t ser like a brig ttom of trance to ter garden, o.

    Under t and rigent. Sa of sigo.

    Curious, I tiptoed foro stand where he had, and look around.

    A er garden is colorful  t time of day, at t time of year. Largely it depends on dayligo bring it to life. t visitor o look o see its attractions. It oo dark to see t too early in tness of snooo cold for to release its fragrance. tcs branced rembling yelloassels, but for no  traction. Fine and leafless, tely knotted, ting randomly and
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