The Faded Photograph

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2026-08-21 18:18:15 -

The feast was loud. Too loud. Caleb sat at the edge of the long oak table. He held a glass of wine. The wine was red. Thick. He did not drink it. He watched the bubbles rise in the tankards of the men across from him. They laughed. They slapped the table. In his left hand, he held a small wooden box. It was smooth. Polished by years of thumb and callus. Inside, a single thorn. A rose thorn....

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