The Wistful Dinner

added blog Literature

2026-08-23 08:56:26 -

The buyer stood in the doorway, blocking the morning light. "You have the load ready?" he asked. His voice was like dry leaves scraping over stone. I nodded, my hand still resting on the saw handle. The wood smelled of sap and old iron, a sharp, biting scent that filled my lungs before I could even turn my head. My name is Elias. I am forty-two years old, and I own a mill on the edge of the...

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