The Distant Wound

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2026-08-18 14:16:53 -

The Distant Wound

The rain in the valley did not fall so much as it hung, a suspended grey mist that soaked into the wool of your coat and settled in the marrow of your bones, a cold that was less a temperature and more a presence, a ghostly hand pressing against the inside of your ribs until you felt the very rhythm of your own heart stuttering against the dampness. I remember the taste of the soup, that thick,...

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