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A fragment of the Garden of Remembering
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I was known in my time. Lady of Butterflies, Princess of Darkness... Mistress of Typos. The funny things was, I was nothing my dreamer was not. And she never bothered to hide any of it, either. We were just... different. Different upbringings, different directions, different stories, but the same motivations. Same wills and dreams. Same final resting place, for a few years at least. But things change.
