The Distant Wound
The door opened. Elara stepped out. The air was cold. It bit at her skin. She did not shiver. She walked. The road was white. It stretched into the mist. The mist was thick. It swallowed the horizon. It swallowed the sky. She walked. Her feet did not feel the ground. Or perhaps the ground was soft. Or perhaps she was floating. It did not matter. She thought of Thomas. Thomas was in the cell....
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