The Wistful Mirror
The banquet was not a celebration of life but a ritual of consumption, a sprawling, grotesque tableau of flesh and silverware that stretched across the entire length of the grand ballroom, where the air hung thick and stagnant with the scent of roasted lamb, spiced wine, and the faint, cloying sweetness of decay that seemed to seep from the pores of the marble floor. At the center of this...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews