The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-20 05:09:14 -

The wind did not blow; it pressed. It had been pressing against the hull of the research vessel for three days, a constant, hydraulic force that made the metal groan in low, resonant frequencies. I stood at the stern, watching the white foam of the wake dissolve into the black water, trying to remember what it felt like to be on solid ground. I am a structural engineer, a man of load-bearing...

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