The Distant Blade

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 16:07:55 -

The Distant Blade

Mara slept with her mouth open. The dream was wet. It smelled of rust. She stood in the kitchen. The linoleum was cold. Her father stood by the stove. He did not look at her. He held a knife. It was long. It was black. It was not a chef’s knife. It was a blade. A tool. For cutting air. For cutting silence. He turned. His eyes were gone. Just white. Just blank. He spoke. No sound came out. His...

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