The Distant Wound

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2026-08-18 07:44:39 -

The Distant Wound

"Take it." The voice was mine. Or perhaps it was the voice of the air itself, vibrating in the dry throat of the cellar. I did not look up. My eyes were fixed on the bottle. It was brown glass, stained with the residue of a decade. The label had peeled away, leaving only the ghost of a script. A remedy. A poison. I could not tell the difference anymore. "Take it," I said again. Silence...

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