The Wistful Dinner
The table was long. It stretched into the dark, like a tongue. You sat at the end. Not the head. Never the head. You were a clerk. A scribe. You held the pen. You held the spoon. You held the truth, though no one asked for it. The King ate first. He was a large man. His plate was empty. Yet he ate more. The meat vanished. The wine vanished. The air around him grew thick. It smelled of copper....
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