The Distant Ghost

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2026-08-17 17:51:07 -

The Distant Ghost

You are running. Your lungs burn. The cold air cuts like a knife. You taste blood. It is copper. It is old. The road is mud. The mud is black. It sucks at your boots. You do not care. You run. The village is behind you. The bells are ringing. They do not ring for joy. They ring for death. Or for judgment. You do not know. You only know the sound is a hook. It catches in your throat. You gag....

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