The Wistful Dinner

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 00:40:58 -

The feast was a wound. It opened in the belly of the stone hall. Tables stretched long. Cloth was white. Food was red. Mutton. Venison. Roots. Smoke hung low. It tasted of iron. Mara sat at the end. She was the inquisitor. Her eyes were dry. She looked for rot. She looked for lies. The lord, Aldric, poured wine. The wine was black. It spilled. It stained the cloth. A stain. A map. Mara watched...

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