Dinner at the End of Time
Leo checked his watch. 7:45 PM. The medium-rare ribeye should be ready in exactly five minutes. Outside the window of his 42nd-floor Manhattan apartment, the world was ending. Not with a bang, but with a very slow, very methodical folding. The Empire State Building had already been pressed into a shimmering silver ribbon that floated horizontally across the sky. The taxis in the street below...
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