The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-18 01:45:17 -

The rain had been falling for three days, a thin, persistent sheet that turned the gravel of the driveway into a muddy slurry. I stood at the kitchen window, watching the droplets race each other down the glass, my hand resting on the cold pane. The house was silent, save for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway and the low hum of the refrigerator. It was a Tuesday evening in...

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