The Distant Wound

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2026-08-20 11:54:15 -

The Distant Wound

The rain did not fall so much as it hung, a suspended, grey membrane stretched tight over the world, blurring the horizon into a smear of wet slate and dying moss, and I walked with my boots sinking into the mud that smelled of iron and ancient rot, the weight of my sin a physical thing, a stone in my chest that ticked with a cold, mechanical precision. I had been walking for three days,...

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