The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-18 18:06:09 -

The knife had belonged to my father before it belonged to me. And before that, it had belonged to a man whose name I have forgotten, a man who used it to butcher hogs in the winter of the Great Depression, back when the town of Oakhaven was still just a smudge of smoke on the horizon. Now, the blade was dull. Not in the way of a rusty edge, but in the way of a promise that has been kept so many...

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