The Distant Wound
The door closed with a soft click. Miles stood on the porch. The air was cold. It bit his nose. He watched the wagon leave. Dust rose in the wind. Then it settled. Silence returned. It was a heavy silence. Miles went inside. The house was empty. The walls were white. The floors were bare. He walked to the table. His hands shook. He looked at them. They were steady now. He had been a tailor for...
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