The Distant Wound

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 16:15:47 -

The Distant Wound

The banquet hall of the Ministry of Civil Order did not smell of food. It smelled of ozone and polished brass, a sterile perfume that clung to the wool of Major Elias Thorne’s uniform. He stood near the service entrance, his hands clasped behind his back, watching the stream of dignitaries flow toward the long, mahogany table like blood cells moving through a clogged artery. This was the Feast...

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