The Faded Ruin
The banquet hall of the Ministry of Nutrition was a cavern of white marble and sterile light, the air thick with the scent of ozone and the faint, sweet rot of overripe fruit that no one dared to mention. I sat at the long table, my hands folded over the polished surface, watching the steam rise from the bowl of gray paste before me. It was the annual Convocation, a ritual of consumption and...
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