The Distant Wound

ha aggiunto una foto Literature

2026-08-20 12:16:04 -

The Distant Wound

The rain fell in sheets. Cold. Grey. It hit the asphalt and hissed. I stood at the gate. My hands shook. The metal was wet. I gripped it. Hard. The bar bent. I let go. My palms bled. Red on grey. I was leaving. Or being sent away. The distinction mattered little. The Bureau called it a reassignment. I called it a purge. My name was Elias Thorne. I had served twenty years. Twenty years of...

0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima