The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-18 04:20:44 -

The rain had been falling for three days, a grey and persistent veil that turned the stone walls of the priory into slick, weeping slabs of slate. You sat in the refectory, the long oak table stretching out before you like a dark river, your hands folded in your lap, the fingers white-knuckled with a tension that did not match the stillness of the room. The air smelled of damp wool, old...

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