The Wistful Dinner

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 07:07:08 -

The frost bit hard. The air was thin. It tasted of iron and old leaves. Elias stood in the garden. His hands shook. Not from cold. From rage. The wisteria was dead. Or so it seemed. Black vines. Twisted knots. They looked like veins drained of blood. They coiled around the trellis. Like fingers grasping at nothing. He stared at them. He had planted them twenty years ago. They were his life. His...

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