The Wistful Dinner
The rain hit the pavement with a dull, rhythmic thud. It was the only sound in the city. Or so it seemed to Elias Thorne. He stood by the window. The glass was cold against his forehead. Outside, the streetlamps flickered. They buzzed like dying flies. Elias watched the water pool in the gutters. It formed small, dark lakes. Reflections of the broken world. He turned away from the glass. His...
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