The Distant Wound

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 00:22:44 -

The Distant Wound

The banquet hall of the Institute smelled of ozone and stale lavender, a scent that had seeped into the plaster walls over decades, a perfume of preservation and decay. We sat in long rows of polished oak tables, our hands folded, our eyes lowered, waiting for the toast. The air was thick, heavy with the hum of the ventilation systems that cycled through the building’s veins, pumping the same...

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