The Distant Blade
The blade is not a weapon, not in the way you were taught to fear it. It is a tool of calibration, a slender strip of hardened steel that has lost its edge to the friction of ten thousand inspections. You hold it in your left hand, the metal cold and slick with the residue of your own sweat, while your right hand grips the strap of your bag. It is a Tuesday, or perhaps a Wednesday; the days...
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