The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-19 15:37:16 -

The rain had stopped, but the streets of the city still wept. I stood on the corner of Ashworth Street, watching the wet cobblestones reflect the gaslight in long, trembling ribbons of amber. My coat was damp, the wool heavy and cold against my shoulders, a weight that seemed to press down on my very spine. I had just said goodbye to Thomas. He had walked away into the grey mist, his silhouette...

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