The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-19 05:26:29 -

The Wistful Petal

The banquet hall smelled of boiled cabbage and old sweat, a thick, grey fog that settled in the throat and refused to leave. In the center of the room, under a single flickering bulb that hummed like a dying insect, stood a table laden with plates of cold meat and glasses of cloudy water. It was a feast, or so the townspeople of Oakhaven claimed it was, though no one seemed eager to eat. They...

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