The Distant Wound

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 23:53:15 -

The Distant Wound

The leather strap bit into my wrist. It was a standard issue restraint. Black. Worn. The stitching held. For now. I sat on the stone floor. Cold. Damp. The air smelled of iron and old sweat. My guard stood ten paces away. He held his rifle. Loose grip. Boredom in his eyes. My name is Elias Thorne. I was a man of the law. I wore the badge. I carried the weight. Now I carry only the weight of my...

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