The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-20 22:02:08 -

The fire died. Not out. Just stopped. The coals turned grey. The room went cold. I sat in the chair. My hands were shaking. They always shook. Thomas stood by the door. He did not look at me. He looked at the wall. The wallpaper was peeling. Brown stains. Like old blood. Or tea. We had been sitting for an hour. No one spoke. The silence was heavy. It pressed on my ears. It pressed on my chest....

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