The Wistful Dinner
The salt had long since crystallized into a white crust that mapped the topography of their shared silence, a brittle landscape that cracked under the weight of any movement, and Elias stood in the center of the kitchen, a space that had once smelled of yeast and roasting fat but now held only the metallic tang of old pennies and the damp, heavy rot of things left too long in the dark, staring...
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