The Faded Apartment
The hall is bright with the low, amber glow of tallow and the heavy, sweet scent of roasting meat that clings to the stone walls. You stand at the edge of the feast, a silent figure in the corner, your hands clasped behind your back, your spine rigid as the iron bar of your own skeleton. Around you, the townspeople eat and drink, their voices a rising tide of laughter and clinking pewter,...
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