The Distant Wound

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 16:59:00 -

The Distant Wound

"You are late." The voice was not cruel. It was flat. It was the sound of iron sliding across stone. You stood in the corridor. The floor was cold. It bit through your boots. You did not move. You did not speak. The air smelled of rust. It smelled of old blood. It smelled of nothing. The Inspector waited. He stood by the window. The glass was thick. The glass was stained. Outside, the city...

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