The Distant Crown
The rain did not fall so much as it invaded, a cold, grey mist that seeped into the marrow of the bones of every child who stood in the sterile, white-tiled corridor of the St. Jude’s Pediatric Oncology Center, where the air was scrubbed clean of scent and memory, leaving only the metallic tang of iodine and the low, thrumming hum of fluorescent lights that buzzed like trapped insects. I am...
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