The Distant Wound
The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a thick, gray curtain that blurred the boundary between the windowpane and the street, a pervasive dampness that seeped into the marrow of the house and settled in the joints of my hands, which were trembling now with a rhythm that no longer matched the beating of my heart but instead seemed to echo the distant, mechanical thrum of the...
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