The Wistful Dinner

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 11:05:59 -

The rain fell in sheets of grey, blurring the horizon into a smear of wet slate. Margaret stood at the edge of the cliff, her boots sinking into the mud. She wore a coat that had once been black but was now the color of old bruises. It was a heavy garment, tailored for a body that no longer existed. Her knees ached. The pain was a dull, persistent drumbeat in her joints, a reminder of the years...

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