The Distant Wound

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 17:33:41 -

The Distant Wound

The pill was blue. It sat on the kitchen counter, a perfect, smooth disc of synthetic calm, waiting for my hand. I had washed it. I had dried it. I placed it back in its blister pack, aligning the foil with a precision that felt surgical. This was my job. I was not a doctor, nor a nurse. I was the Warden of the Household. And the household was dying, not from disease, but from the slow,...

0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews