The Distant Wound

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 20:36:33 -

The Distant Wound

The mortar breaks. It happens at dawn. The first bell of the Watchtower cracks. A thin, high sound. Like a bone snapping. You are in the kitchen. You are grinding. The pestle is stone. The bowl is stone. Your hands are raw. You do not stop. The dust rises. It coats your tongue. It tastes of ash. It tastes of old wars. You are the Keeper. You are the Body. The village needs you. The walls need...

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