The Wistful Dinner
You wake before the sun has decided to rise, not from an alarm or a thought, but from the weight of a knowing that sits in your chest like a stone dropped into deep water, sending ripples through the fabric of your skin, your bones, the very air you breathe, a knowing that the world you have inhabited for the last fourteen years is a lie, a delicate, trembling veil stretched over a chasm of...
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