The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-23 23:34:37 -

The attic room smelled of tallow and old wool. Elias, forty-two, sat before a cracked mirror, polishing his left hand with a rag soaked in oil. The skin shone, waxy and smooth, a stark contrast to the scarred, trembling right hand that lay dormant in his lap. He had been an apprentice for six years, but the Master’s recent dismissal of Thomas, a boy with "foreign habits," had sent a chill...

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