The Distant Blade
You are not a monster. You are a man with a stain on his sleeve. The stain is red. It looks like blood. It is rust. You scrub it in the sink of the small, damp kitchen. The water runs cold. You watch the rust swirl into the drain. It does not go away. It settles. It stays. Your brother, Thomas, sits at the table. He does not look at you. He looks at the wall. The wallpaper is peeling. Yellow...
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