The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-24 16:27:04 -

The dream is always the same, a loop of sensory data that my mind refuses to process until the alarm clock shatters the silence of my apartment. I see Julian’s hands, the skin blackened and peeling away to reveal the red, raw meat beneath, gripping the cold iron of the Astrolabe with a strength that defied the heat consuming him. I wake with the taste of ozone on my tongue, a metallic tang that...

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