The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-21 22:18:56 -

The air in the basement office always smelled of damp wool and old paper. I sat in the corner, my hands wrapped around a mug of tea that had gone cold an hour ago, listening to the hum of the fluorescent lights overhead. Outside, the autumn wind stripped the leaves from the oak trees in the courtyard, sending them skittering across the wet pavement like dry, brown leaves that refused to rot. In...

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