The Distant Crown

added blog Literature

2026-08-17 12:08:04 -

The Distant Crown

The rain hit the slate roof. It sounded like static. I sat in the chair by the window. My hands were still. They had to be still. If they moved, the air would move. If the air moved, the truth would leak. I am not a healer. I am a listener. The village called me a witch. They whispered it in the market square. They spat in the gutter when I passed. They did not see my face. They saw the shadow...

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