The Distant Wound

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2026-08-22 13:53:17 -

The Distant Wound

The wall stood eight feet high. It was made of stone, cold and gray, humming with a low, constant vibration that Tom could feel in his teeth. He stood in the center of the room, his hands at his sides, his eyes fixed on the seam where the floor met the baseboard. It was a dark line. A thin, black thread running endlessly into the distance. Tom was seven years old. He had been seven for a long...

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