The Distant Wound

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2026-08-17 12:51:24 -

The Distant Wound

The fog lay heavy upon the valley of Ashford, a thick, grey shroud that smelled of sulfur and wet wool, settling into the crevices of the cobblestone streets where the gas lamps flickered with a weak, dying pulse. I stood at the window of my cramped office, watching the mist erase the silhouette of the church spire, feeling the cold seep through the glass and into the marrow of my bones, a...

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