The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-17 14:57:16 -

The silver tureen sat in the center of the mahogany table like a small, cold sun, its polished surface reflecting the chandelier above and the faces of the guests below. You held it in your lap, your fingers wrapped around the heavy base, feeling the residual warmth of the gravy within, a ghost heat that seemed to seep into your bones and remind you that you were still alive, still present in...

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