Not everyone approved. A woman who sold office paper and measured time by the stack of reams on her shelf catalogued the changes as a type of administrative error. She wrote stern notices, stapled them to lampposts, and tried to summon the Department of Practicalities. But when she touched the rosemary, it softened her edges enough to let her remember the name of a childhood friend she had not thought of in thirty years. She put the notice in her pocket and felt it turn into a paper crane.

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