The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-19 21:06:26 -

The tower stood. It always stood. A pillar of grey stone rising from the fog, indifferent to the years. I dreamt of it again. It was there, waiting. Cold. Still. It did not move. It did not change. It simply was. I woke with the taste of dust in my mouth. The room was dark. The clock ticked. A slow, heavy pulse. My heart matched it. I sat up. The sheets were cold. I was old. I could feel it in...

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