The Distant Wound

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2026-08-20 13:55:36 -

The Distant Wound

The fog rolled in from the harbor, thick and gray, smelling of brine and coal smoke. Elias stood on the pier, his hands tucked deep into the pockets of a wool coat that had seen better decades. He watched the water. It was still. Unmoving. A perfect mirror for the sky, which was the same indistinct slate color as the sea. He felt a strange pull in his chest, a tightness that was not pain, but...

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