The Distant Blade
The rain against the leaded glass of the University of St. Jude’s medical library was not merely weather but a rhythmic, percussive judgment, a metronome ticking down the seconds of a life I had chosen to study rather than live. I stood before the anatomy table, my hands trembling not with cold, but with the terrible, electric weight of the thing I was about to do, my fingers hovering over the...
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