The Wistful Dinner
The rain fell on the town of Oakhaven with a steady, gray persistence. It was a Tuesday in November, the kind of day that stripped the world of color until only the skeleton of the house remained. Margaret stood by the window of the dining room. Her hand rested on the glass. The cold seeped through her skin, a sharp, biting chill that traveled up her arm and settled in her shoulder. She watched...
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