The Distant Wound

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2026-08-23 05:55:49 -

The Distant Wound

The letter was folded into a square no larger than a playing card, the paper brittle and yellowed at the edges, smelling faintly of the damp cellar where I had found it tucked behind the baseboards. It was dated three weeks ago, written in Mara’s cramped, slanting hand, but I had not opened it until today, when the black vine had finally crossed the threshold of the kitchen and begun to coil...

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