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Rapporter et oversættelsesproblem
The fork finds its way to my hand, each tine sliding between the corn with a soft, unsettling squelch. And then, the corn finds its way to my mouth. Cold, wet, oddly sweet - it is as if a thousand suns were compressed into this moment. I chew, slowly, deliberately, the way a tortoise gnaws upon a head of lettuce. The sound is almost too much, a symphony of mastication that fills the empty room.
And thus, the night ends, the twilight lifting to reveal the harsh light of a new dawn. But as the world awakens, I am left with the echo of my midnight banquet. The can is discarded, a hollow testament to the kingdom that was. And I, the once king, am left with nothing but the taste of sweet corn and the lingering sense of something lost.
𝓲 𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓪 𝓰𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽 𝓭𝓪𝔂
Happy Holidays, Dc! <3