The Distant Crown
The rain had been falling for three days, a relentless, grey curtain that turned the world outside the bunker into a blur of mud and indistinct shapes, and I lay on the cold concrete floor, my back against the damp stone, watching the single bare bulb flicker above me while the sound of my own breathing, ragged and wet, filled the small, airless space with a rhythm that felt less like life and...
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