The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-20 04:54:33 -

The rain had stopped, but the air in the dormitory still tasted of wet wool and iron, a metallic tang that clung to the back of my throat. I stood before the mirror, adjusting the collar of my greatcoat, the fabric stiff and heavy against my neck. It was a fine garment, tailored in the sharp, industrial lines of the era, cut from a dark wool that absorbed the dim light of the room rather than...

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