The Distant Wound

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2026-08-17 17:11:19 -

The Distant Wound

The fire started in the East Wing. You watched it from the balcony. Smoke poured from the high windows like black water. The heat hit your face. It smelled of wet wool and old paper. You did not run. You stood still. Your dress was silk. It was white. The soot began to fall. You let it settle on your skin. This is your home. The Ashworth Manor. It has stood for two hundred years. Now it is...

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