The Distant Wound

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2026-08-19 17:55:59 -

The Distant Wound

The feast in the Great Hall of the University of St. Jude was not a celebration of harvest, nor a coronation, but a ritualistic display of the collective will to forget, where the air hung thick with the scent of roasted pheasant, stale wine, and the cloying, metallic tang of fear that had seeped into the very mortar of the stone walls. You sat at the far end of the long oak table, your hands...

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