The Wistful Silence

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 17:18:21 -

The shell cracked my left ear before I could pull the trigger. A hot, wet tear of blood ran down my neck, mixing with the grease on my collar. I was in the library, the great oak desks stretching out like a fleet of beached ships. The air smelled of dust and old paper, but underneath that, the metallic tang of the thing I held. It was not a gun. It was a scalpel. A surgical steel blade, cold...

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