The Distant Crown
The rain does not fall so much as it exists, a dense, wet curtain that blurs the boundary between the gym floor and the world beyond the high, industrial windows of the St. Jude’s Community Center, a place where the air smells of stale sweat, rubber, and the faint, metallic tang of old blood that has soaked into the mats over decades, and you stand there, your knuckles white, your breath coming...
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