The Wistful Dinner
You wake with the taste of copper in your mouth and the weight of a woolen coat that is not yours on your back. The air in the cellar is thick, stale, and smells of damp earth and old paper. You are standing in the center of a circular room, the walls lined with shelves that stretch up into a darkness you cannot fathom. There are no windows. The only light comes from a single, flickering oil...
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