The Wistful Dinner

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 10:25:20 -

The glass tasted of iron. I drank. The cold shock ran down my throat. It was a good drink. It always was. I sat in the corner. The booth was red. The vinyl was cracked. A map of small fissures ran across the seat. I traced them with my thumb. I liked the texture. It felt like skin. The restaurant was empty. It was always empty at this hour. The staff moved with slow, deliberate grace. They did...

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