The Faded Frontier

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2026-08-17 21:08:02 -

The roast lamb sat in the center of the long oak table, glistening with a reduction of rosemary and red wine, its skin pulled taut and golden like the skin of a ripe peach, and the air in the dining room was so thick with the scent of burning wood and roasted fat that it seemed to coat the back of your throat with a fine, warm dust. You sat at the head of the table, your hands folded neatly in...

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