The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-24 18:59:52 -

The light in the salt pans was so bright it hurt the eyes, a white glare that made the water look like hammered silver rather than the brine it was. I stood at the edge of the floating market, my sword sheathed but heavy at my hip, and watched the wind tear the laundry from the lines above, sending white sheets snapping against the wooden pilings. I wanted to leave by dawn, to take the boat...

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