The Distant Wound

added blog Literature

2026-08-23 06:56:23 -

The Distant Wound

The banquet hall of the Ministry of Civic Harmony smelled of roasted pheasant and ozone. You sat at the head table, the silverware cold against your knuckles, watching the Sector 4 delegation laugh too loudly. You are Elias Thorne, Senior Warden, forty-two years old, and you need this pension. Your knees ache when the barometric pressure drops, and your wife left three years ago, taking the...

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