The Distant Wound

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 21:58:17 -

The Distant Wound

The dream was always the same. A white room. No doors. Just a single, heavy oak desk. On the desk, a chisel. It did not glow. It did not hum. It sat there, dull and wooden, waiting to be picked up. Elias woke with the taste of iron in his mouth. He lay still for a moment, listening to the hum of the ventilation unit. It was a low, constant drone. A mechanical heartbeat. The apartment was small....

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