The Wistful Dinner

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 16:28:28 -

The rain hammered against the stained glass of the chapel, a relentless drumming that sounded like knuckles on a door. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of damp stone and old candle wax. Marguerite stood in the center of the nave, her hands clasped so tightly her knuckles turned white. She was looking for the door. Not the heavy oak door that led out to the graveyard, but the other one....

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