The Distant Journey

added blog Literature

2026-08-23 01:29:56 -

The tea in the chipped ceramic mug did not warm, nor did it cool. It sat there, a fixed point of cold bitterness, mirroring the stagnation of my own lungs as I stared at the sterile white walls of St. Jude’s on October 12th, 1998. I was eleven, and the only sound was the rhythmic beeping of the monitor, marking the seconds my body was losing. I wanted to drink the last of my father’s prescribed...

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