The Wistful Dinner
In the river delta, the reeds die standing, their brown stalks rigid against the current, holding their ground long after the water has turned them to rot. Babatunde Agyapong, the tax collector for the lower wards, knew this truth better than he knew his own pulse, for he had spent twelve years measuring the value of things that refused to yield, standing in the cold forge of the blacksmith’s...
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