The Distant Ghost
The explosion does not make a sound at first. It is a flash of white, blinding and absolute, that swallows the night. You are standing on the bridge. The iron grating beneath your boots vibrates. Then the sound arrives, a physical blow that knocks the wind out of you. The sky tears open. Sparks rain down like red snow. You do not run. You know the drill. You know the weight of the satchel...
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