The Distant Wound

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2026-08-17 22:33:25 -

The Distant Wound

The air in Sector Four tasted of copper and stale ozone, a metallic tang that coated the back of my throat and refused to dissolve even when I swished water across my tongue, though the water itself had long since turned the color of weak tea, carrying the faint, gritty sediment of the filtration systems that had been failing since the autumn we lost the grid. I sat on the floor of my cramped,...

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