The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-23 13:00:42 -

The clock on the wall of the Ministry of Records ticked with a mechanical indifference that felt personally offensive. I sat at my desk, the wood cold against my forearms, staring at the empty space in Cabinet Four where Julian’s tenure file should have been. My hands were shaking again, the palsy flaring in the joints like a fever, making the pen in my grip a trembling, useless thing. I had...

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