The Wistful Dinner
The glass bead necklace sits in the center of the mahogany table, its surface fractured into a constellation of tiny, jagged shards that catch the artificial light of the boardroom and throw it back in a dizzying, kaleidoscopic spray of blue and violet, a visual artifact that seems to vibrate with a frequency only you can perceive, a frequency that hums in the marrow of your bones and tells you...
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