The Wistful Dinner
The house stood in the valley like a broken tooth, its gables sagging under the weight of centuries and the accumulated dust of neglect, and Elias Thorne, the junior archivist of the municipal library, sat in the center of the great hall, his back against the cold stone of the fireplace, holding the final shard of the stained-glass rose window in his trembling hands. It was a piece of cobalt...
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