The Wistful Dinner

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 15:06:09 -

You stand at the edge of the city, where the fog does not lift but thickens, swallowing the streetlamps one by one. The air tastes of wet ash and old iron. You are leaving. Not because you wish to, but because the house behind you is no longer yours. It belongs to the silence now. The silence that followed the shelling. The silence that settled into the walls like water into dry soil, rotting...

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