The Wistful Witness

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 02:06:36 -

The bone in my left hand was not merely a fracture, but a map of the violence I had committed, a jagged white line running through the soft, pink flesh of my palm, pulsing with a heat that felt less like inflammation and more like a memory trying to escape the cage of my skin. I sat in the corner of the interrogation room, a space so small and windowless that it felt less like a room and more...

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