The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-18 17:19:18 -

The coal chute was a throat that had forgotten how to swallow, and I was the stone stuck fast in its gullet, grinding against the rusted iron ribs of the city as the wind outside screamed like a dying animal. I had been climbing for three days without rest, or perhaps it was only three hours, for time in the soot-choked depths of the industrial district lost all sense of measurement and became...

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