The Distant Wound

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2026-08-20 03:19:04 -

The Distant Wound

The sky above the city of Ostrava did not darken; it bruised. It turned a deep, swollen purple, the color of a hematoma spreading beneath the skin of the world, and then it cracked. The first shard of glass fell through the roof of the Great Hall, a sliver of silence that sang as it pierced the velvet cushion of the mayor’s chair. Then came the rain of shards, a glittering hail that shattered...

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