The Wistful Dinner

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 21:01:25 -

The house was dying, and you were the only one who still knew how to listen to its breath. You sat at the head of the long oak table, the wood cold and slick beneath your palms, wearing the heavy wool coat of your office. Outside, the wind tore through the bare branches of the elms, a sound like dry bones rattling in a drum. It was late in the autumn of 1892, or perhaps it was a century...

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