The Distant Wound

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2026-08-18 19:57:10 -

The Distant Wound

The bell rang. It did not chime. It shrieked. A raw, metallic tear in the fabric of the morning. I woke with the taste of rust on my tongue. The floor was cold. The air was thick with the smell of ozone and wet wool. I sat up. My joints popped. They sounded like dry twigs snapping underfoot. I was alone. Or so I thought. The room was a box of gray concrete. One window. A slit in the wall....

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