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She set the small dining table as she had for the past twenty years. Two place settings, separated by a vase of seasonal flowers from their front garden. He sat in his chair, she sat in hers directly across from him. They dined quietly, he savoring one flavor at a time, she combining flavors on a single forkful. When their plates were empty, he reached across the table to hold her hand, and they talked and laughed the rest of the night away.