The Distant Wound

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2026-08-20 08:20:14 -

The Distant Wound

The rain on the slate roof was not weather; it was a verdict. You lay on the floorboards of the guardroom, the wood cold and unyielding against your cheek, and listened to the water drum against the shingles with a rhythmic, indifferent persistence. Your body was a ruin of bruises and torn muscle, the aftermath of a struggle you could no longer fully recall, only the taste of copper and the...

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