The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-19 20:17:53 -

The mirror in the break room was cracked, a spiderweb of fractures radiating from the center where someone had once slammed a tray of cold tea. I looked at it often, not to see my face, but to watch the way the light fractured through the glass, turning my own reflection into a dozen scattered pieces. It was a Tuesday in November, the kind of day where the air in the textile mill hung heavy...

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