The Distant Wound

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-20 18:31:43 -

The Distant Wound

The ink was dry on the form. It sat on the steel desk like a small, dead insect. Elias stared at the signature line. His name was there, in his own hand. He had written it himself. That was the part that hurt most. Not the gun, not the blood, but the pen. The pen that had made it official. He lived in the city of Aethelgard. It was a place of gray stone and higher walls. The walls had been...

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