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Pádraig Barry (PJ)
pjbarry.bsky.social
did:plc:qewf53s6cio3u5vforeex2bo
The front garden was no more than a sliver of earth, but Maeve still tended to it each morning, pulling weeds and whispering to the marigolds as if they were old parish friends. It wasn’t the big garden she dreamed of as a child, but it was hers and that’s what mattered.
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2025-09-02T10:57:48.808Z