The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-20 00:22:16 -

I woke with the taste of copper and burnt sugar on my tongue, the dream still clinging to the back of my eyes like a stubborn film. In the dream, the house had been breathing, its walls expanding and contracting in a slow, rhythmic heave, and I had been standing in the center of the dining room, holding a dinner fork that had fused into my palm, the metal hot and alive, while my father sat at...

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